Bits and Bobs 3
by cjh4ever
Summary: A collection of short stories which will be added to as and when the muse strikes and time allows. They feature the team but Jack and Ianto will predominate. New story: Ianto is shot for the first time ...
1. Mari and Joe

_A sort-of-seasonal tale to start of another collection of short stories ... _

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**Mari and Joe**

On a cold afternoon in late January, Ianto was in the back room making himself a coffee when the Tourist Office door opened. Expecting Gwen, he called out, "Just a minute." With his newly-made coffee in hand, he lifted the bead curtain with a smile for the newcomer.

It was not Gwen.

A young woman, probably a teenager, stood at the counter. She was wearing a dark woollen coat with a bright red scarf at the throat and her hair was straggly and wet from the sleet that had been sweeping across Cardiff all day. Her face was thin with a pointed nose and slit of a mouth but her eyes were wide and a deep green; definitely her most attractive feature. However, even as Ianto took all this in, his attention was focussed on the baby carrier – the ones that double as car seats – on the counter and the blue-bonneted head just visible through the waterproof cover.

"Hello," he said. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so." The woman's voice was softer and more hesitant than he had expected. The accent also gave her away as a Cardiff lass. "I'm looking for Captain Jack Harkness." She smiled tentatively and bit her lip at the same time.

"Ahh …" Ianto was at a loss for words. Normally he would have immediately denied Jack's presence but this woman – and her baby! – was a puzzle he wanted explained. "He's just stepped out … but I could call him for you. He's not far away." He picked up his mobile which was lying on the counter next to his mug of coffee. "Who shall I say it is?"

"Mari. Mari Probert. He'll remember me!" The last came with a small nervous laugh.

"I expect he will," murmured Ianto, speed dialling Jack. "Captain, there's a visitor to see you. Mari Probert." He paused deliberately before adding, "And baby."

"_Who?" _said Jack doubtfully, thinking hard. Then he remembered, it had been just before Christmas._ "Oh great! I'll be right there. Through the public door." _

Putting down his phone, Ianto smiled at the woman. "He's on his way. Would you like a coffee?"

"Thanks, if it's not any trouble."

Ianto left Mari fussing over the sleeping baby to make the coffee, grateful for the excuse to get away. He wondered what story – event? - lay behind the appearance of the woman and her baby. Various possibilities sprang to mind – from the obvious to the preposterous – and he expected the truth would be nearer the latter than the former. After all, Jack was involved.

Grabbing his greatcoat, Jack ran through the Hub and onto the invisible lift. Much better to arrive through the public Tourist Office door even if it did mean him going out in the sleet and cold. As he rode up on the lift, his mind went back a few weeks, to late December …

-ooOoo-

Cardiff looked like a traditional Christmas card. Snow had been falling gently for a few hours and coated the roofs, trees, roads and paths. The commuters had left their offices and headed home – a lot of them earlier than usual – and the snow had covered the tyre tracks leaving a pristine whiteness everywhere. Children, now warm inside their homes, had left a lopsided snowman on a wide verge, its smile faintly sinister in the orange glow of the street lights.

Jack Harkness smiled as he walked slowly through this wonderland, snowflakes falling on his uncovered head and greatcoat-clad shoulders, singing quietly to himself. "Joy to the world, the Lord is come, let Earth receive her king, let every … dum de dum de dum. Dum dum de dum de dum … and heaven and dum dum dum, dum –" His singing, now more humming as he had forgotten the words, slowed as a patch of darkness caught his eye. " – dum … de dum …"

Something brown showed stark against the snow in a corner of the school grounds where a wall created some shelter. Narrowing his eyes, Jack studied it and had concluded it was a pile of rubbish when it moved sufficiently to dislodge some of the light snow that had gathered on it. With a sigh, he left the pavement and went through the unlocked gate. This could be a Weevil – the shape was about the right size for an adolescent; Ianto would have to wait a bit longer.

Nearing the shape Jack sniffed, expecting the musty scent of a Weevil but instead smelt unmistakable humanity; one of the homeless who hadn't made it to a hostel, he assumed. He put out a hand and gently shook the highest point of the shape, now liberally covered with the snow which was still falling. The reaction was immediate. A head shot up from the folds of a large-collared coat, swathed in a lumpy, hand-knitted scarf.

"Get away from me! Leave me alone!" The accent was female and Welsh, the tone strident with fear under the surface anger.

"Okay." He stood up and put his hands in his pockets. "Soon as I know what you're doing here." She had obviously not been on the streets for long – she was far too clean – and he wondered what she was doing here when she should be with family and friends getting ready for the holidays. He waited but she made no reply, merely glared at him showing brilliant green eyes. Jack was reminded of a cornered cat. As the seconds turned to minutes, he began to hum again. "Dum dum de dum, dum dum dum dum –"

"Go away!" When he didn't respond or move she added, "What are you, some kind of pervert!"

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said with a smile. "You?"

"None of your business!"

With a deep sigh, Jack crouched down in front of her. "No problem. I don't need to know your name. But understand, I'm not leaving you here in this weather. So, either you can allow me to take you home or - " He stopped when she burst into tears, all her false bravado disappearing in an instant. "Come here, it can't be that bad. Not when you've got me to help." He gathered her in his arms and held her as she continued to sob.

With a hiccup, the girl moved away from Jack yet still stayed within his arms. "I haven't got a home. Not any more." She wiped her nose on a woolly mitten.

"Take this." He fished out a handkerchief which was still reasonably clean and handed it to her. "Had a row, have you? I'm sure it can be fixed if –"

"No it can't!" she protested, moving further back into her corner. "Not with this." She pointed to her swollen belly, evidence of the later stages of pregnancy. "They won't have me back." Tears flowed again and she wiped at her eyes impatiently.

"Your parents?" Jack cleared a little of the snow away from the ground beside her and sat down. Now his eyes had adjusted to the limited light, he realised she was young - late teens probably – and ill-dressed for the weather. A bag, about the same size as allowed as hand baggage on an aeroplane, was the only sign she had made any preparation for her current predicament.

She sniffed and nodded. "My Da. Said I was a whore and had to get out of his house."

"Why now? You're pretty far along." He judged her to be six or seven months pregnant but with her small bones and frame she might have been able to hide it under loose sweaters pretty well.

"He only just found out." Her voice was soft and he strained to hear her. "Wouldn't listen to me."

"I will. Tell me all about it." His tone was persuasive and, with an arm round her shoulders, he listened as she poured out her story, a very familiar one.

Her name was Mari Probert and she was just turned seventeen. She worked as a hairdresser in a local salon and had been with her boyfriend, Joe, a chippy, for three years. They had discovered she was pregnant but kept it from both their families for fear of what they would say; Mari had been determined from the start to keep her baby and feared being talked out of her decision. Three months into the pregnancy, Joe had got a job in Bristol for the extra money which would ensure that, when the time came, they would have enough between them to rent somewhere of their own.

"And now it's all gone wrong," she concluded, dry-eyed once more as her fingers fiddled with the handkerchief ceaselessly. "I've messed everything up. I only had to keep it hidden a few more weeks."

Jack was touched by her story; no matter how many times he heard similar tales, each one had its own poignancy. He thought of his own daughter, Alice, raising her child alone now her husband had left her. It was always the women who were left to manage as best they could. "Have you told Joe what's happened?" She shook her head. "Why not?"

"Battery's dead." As evidence of this, she held up a mobile that had seen better days. "Anyway, I can't go to him. He's in a squat. Saves money that way."

"I still think you should tell him. You think he'd want you sleeping on the streets?"

"No, but what can he do?" Her watery green eyes focussed on him, despair all to clear in their depths.

"Not a lot, maybe. Tell you what, let's get you sorted out then you can recharge the phone and give him a call." He eased stiff legs and stood up, putting a hand under her elbow to help her up too.

"What do you mean?" She was wary again, defensive almost. "I don't know you. I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Lying with practiced ease, Jack said, "I know people in social services and can get you into a hostel. It won't be fancy but it'll be a roof over your head, and warm. You can stay there until you and Joe can work out what to do."

She pulled away from him. "Don't want no do-gooders getting involved. They'll take my baby away!"

"They won't. I won't let them." He saw she was unconvinced so added, "I promise, Mari. They're scared of me."

This brought a smile to her face. He had shown her nothing but kindness and she didn't think he'd be very scary. But he was a stranger, should she trust him? It was difficult to decide. She couldn't go home and had no friends or relatives able to take her in. She was still trying to decide when he spoke again.

"Think of the baby, Mari," Jack said, playing his trump card. "You need to look after yourself so your baby - Joe's baby - will be safe. If you don't like the hostel you can move on whenever you like. No strings."

Jack watched as she silently debated this and knew that he had won the argument. Gently taking her arm, he picked up her bag and helped her along the snowy path ...

-ooOoo-

Jack smiled as he strode along the boardwalk towards the Tourist Office. Mari had stayed at the hostel until after the birth of the baby when she and Joe moved into a tiny flat in Splott. Jack had not kept track of them, too busy with various aliens, and had only learnt this much when talking to the hostel manager about another waif and stray. He had, however, done a background check on them both and so recognised Joe who was walking in the same direction as him.

"Joe? Joe Carson?" he said coming alongside him. "Yes, thought it was. Captain Jack Harkness."

"Captain Harkness?" The man, just in his twenties and looking younger, was startled but seemed pleased to meet Jack. "The one who helped Mari?"

"The one and only. Don't think the universe could cope with more than one of me!" He clapped the man on the shoulder. "Good to meet you. You coming to meet up with Mari?"

"Yes. She wanted to bring the baby to see you, so we could both thank you." The man smiled shyly.

"Hey, it was nothing," said Jack with a dismissive wave of one hand. "I'd like to see the little tyke. Is it a boy or a girl?" He opened the Tourist Office door and ushered Joe in ahead of him.

"Boy," said Joe proudly. "Born on Christmas Day, he was."

"Fantastic, a Christmas baby." Shutting the door, Jack smiled broadly at Mari who had turned to smile at both new arrivals. "My, just look at you! You're looking great." Jack enveloped her in a hug and kissed her cheek. "And this must be your little boy." He peered into the baby carrier and smiled at the small scrap of humanity lying there. "Now that's a fine looking lad."

"He is, isn't he?" Mari stood close by, holding hands with Joe who was standing protectively and proudly behind her. "I hope you don't mind, but we called him Jack, after you."

"Mind! I'm honoured." He beamed at them both. "Now tell me all your news. Got a place to live?"

Keeping to the background, Ianto watched and listened as Mari and Joe related their current situation – still living in Splott but with plans to move to a larger place in a month or so. Joe was working hard and Mari did a couple of days a week hairdressing while his mother looked after little Jack. The pair had not been reconciled with her parents although her mother had seen the baby a couple of times. After half an hour, during which Jack held his namesake, the family departed.

Ianto, who had pieced together the whole story from chatting with Mari, regarded Jack, one eyebrow raised. "Why didn't you tell me about helping her?"

Jack regarded Ianto pointedly. "I did. You told me I was making it up."

"When? Oh," he went on immediately as the memory returned, "yes, I remember. Sorry, but you must admit it was a bit unlikely. Finding a pregnant 'Mary' looking for a place to stay at Christmas?"

"Should still have believed me." Jack followed as Ianto packed up his papers, opened the secret door and stepped through into the corridor. "You hurt my feelings." This last was said in mock-pain.

Ianto laughed. "I said I was sorry. And I'm proud of you, it was a good thing you did." They were in the lift now, heading down into the Hub.

"How proud? Enough to give me a reward?" It was impossible to miss the implication in Jack's tone as he wrapped his arms round the Welshman.

"Helping Mari should be reward enough." Ianto pushed Jack away, well-used to fending him off. "And having the baby named after you."

"That was nice, wasn't it?" Jack grinned, a pace or two behind Ianto as they went through the cog door. "But I still think I deserve a proper apology from you. There's no one here to disturb us."

Jack continued to wheedle and plead until Ianto could stand no more and gave the older man what he wanted, a very special late Christmas present: himself in the bunker under the office.

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_Merry Christmas! I plan to post more short stories here as they occur to me. Look out for them - Jay_


	2. Last Request

_An unusual request made to Jack awakens old hurts for Ianto ..._

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**Last Request**

When Jack gasped and returned to life, Ianto was there to soothe him through the first moments of disorientation. This had become their routine, whenever possible, in as much as anything to do with Jack's resurrections could be routine. But on this occasion there was a difference. Instead of lingering in Ianto's loving arms, after just a couple of moments Jack leapt to his feet and opened his comms to Toshiko back in the Hub.

"Tosh, need you to trace Nathaniel Monroe. He lives in Cardiff somewhere."

"_Okay. Any more info?"_ she asked.

"He's a solicitor. This is urgent, Tosh." Jack was pacing up and down the wet and dirty alley in Penarth where he and Ianto had cornered the Weevil they had been chasing. A small pool of Jack's blood shone in the limited light.

"Jack, what's going on?" Ianto had risen from his knees and was now watching his boss carefully. "Who's Nathaniel Monroe?"

"Someone I have to find." Jack stopped pacing for a moment, smiled at Ianto distractedly then noticed the prone body of the Weevil. "Let's get this in the SUV."

They were pushing the unconscious body into the boot when Toshiko came on the comms. _"I've found one Nathaniel Monroe,"_ she reported. _"Senior partner of Grendan, Blake and Monroe in Roath."_

"That's him. Send me his home address and a photo. Ianto and I are going to visit him, can you stay until we get back?" It was getting late and she should by rights have already left for home.

"_No problem. What's our interest in him?" _

"I'll explain later." He shut the comms link. "Come on," he said to Ianto, moving round the SUV to the driver's door.

With the man's address fed into the sat-nav, the vehicle was barrelling along the road before Ianto spoke again. "Who is this man?" He was looking at a picture of a middle-aged man with the distinction that comes from success and a position in society.

"A murderer."

Ianto stared at Jack. "How do you know that?"

"His victim told me." Jack briefly met Ianto's gaze then turned his attention back to the road. "Don't look at me like that."

"What do you expect?" He put out a hand to brace himself as they raced around a corner. "Jack, I wish you'd slow down and explain properly!"

"Got to act while I still remember."

"Remember? What are you -" He stopped abruptly, his eyes opening wide and both eyebrows rising. "Are you saying that you met this supposed victim when you were …"

"Dead. That's right, Ianto, I met him." Jack's lips were pressed together in a hard line, determination writ large on his face. "Ray Nixon. Killed by Monroe."

"How? Why?" Ianto shook his head. "No, forget that. You never told me you met people when you were dead!"

"Only happened once before, years ago. Thought it was a one-off but seems not." Jack flicked a glance at Ianto again. "I can't explain how it happened but trust me, Ray Nixon contacted me. Told me how he was drugged by Monroe and the death made to look like a suicide."

"Have you confirmed this? Do you even know this Nixon is dead? Jack," Ianto put a hand on Jack's arm, "you have to check this out first!"

Ianto did not believe Jack was listening, the SUV continued at the same fast pace, but then Jack nodded. Opening the comms again, he said, "Tosh, need another urgent check done. In the last few weeks has a Ray Nixon died? Probably shown as suicide."

"_Hang on. Checking the death records for Cardiff." _There was a pause. _"Okay. One entry. Raymond John Nixon, 35, died on the fourth of last month. Cause of death, barbiturate poisoning. That usually means suicide." _

"Thanks, Tosh." Jack grinned grimly.

"_Want me to check the other records?"_ she asked. Toshiko had no idea why Jack needed this information but trusted him and wanted to do a complete job.

"Yes please, Tosh," replied Ianto before Jack could say anything. "Send it through to my PDA."

"_Will do."_

There was silence in the vehicle as it continued through Cardiff. Ianto was grateful they had to cross the city as it gave him valuable time to think about all Jack had said. It was outlandish that he had received a message from the dead but Ianto had come to expect the unexpected from Jack. The PDA beeped and he opened the message from Tosh.

"Well?" demanded Jack, aware of Ianto's unease. "What does it say?" He was sure of his facts – why would a dead man lie? – but some confirmation would be good.

Scanning the information on the screen, Ianto said, "It's the police report. Nixon was found in his office at … Grendan, Blake and Monroe, Solicitors." He looked sideways at Jack and saw the satisfied smile on the expressive lips. "Autopsy showed lethal levels of Nembutal in his system. Police believe he took his own life; money was found to be missing from a client's account." He was silent as he read more of the documentation. "At the inquest Nixon's wife protested, said her husband would never have taken the money and there was no evidence he had. But the Coroner believed the firm's senior partner … Nathaniel Monroe. Verdict was death by suicide."

"So Nixon was right. Monroe took the money and murdered Nixon to cover it up."

"You have absolutely no proof of that!" protested Ianto. "If you want to follow this up we need to get back to the Hub, check the facts and trace the money. Then we can give it to the police."

Ianto watched Jack carefully. There was no change in the older man's expression but at the next roundabout he turned the SUV around and headed for the Bay. Relieved and a little surprised he had got his way, Ianto got back on the comms to Toshiko. "Tosh, sorry but there's more to find out. We need to know –"

"_He didn't do it,"_ she announced cutting across Ianto. _"Nixon didn't take the money, Monroe did."_

Taken aback, Ianto couldn't find any words for a moment and met Jack's equally startled yet pleased gaze.

"Quick work, Tosh," said Jack. "Tell me more."

In crisp sentences, Toshiko explained what she had found by further investigation of the records. Nathaniel Monroe had lost heavily gambling on-line. When his own money had run out, he had embezzled £100,000 from a trust fund administered by his firm. He had covered his tracks well but Toshiko had found the electronic money transfers that proved what Monroe had done. A report deleted from the firm's computer system but recovered by Toshiko also showed that Ray Nixon had discovered the fraud and reported it to Monroe, unaware that he was the one taking the money. Within three days, Nixon was dead and the blame transferred to him.

"_It's awful,"_ she said finally. _"Ray Nixon did nothing wrong."_ She was moved by the photographs she had discovered of him - with his wife and two young sons - and the obvious love they had shared.

"What about the murder, Tosh? Can we prove that?" asked Jack. They were just entering the underground car park.

"_Not yet. But Nembutal is controlled over here so he either bought on-line or got it on the streets. Nothing on his computer that I can find so it's probably from a dealer." _

"Keep digging. We're just parking so we'll be with you soon." Jack backed into the space and turned off the engine. He was delighted to have been proven right so quickly. His intention of scaring Monroe into acknowledging his crime was now unnecessary; they had the evidence – or most of it – to make it official. He was surprised to find Ianto was not so happy. "Ianto, you okay?"

"What was it like? Meeting this man?" Ianto gazed out of the front windscreen avoiding Jack's gaze.

Relaxing in his seat, Jack said, "Bit like a dream. One of those when you know what's going on even though it makes no sense. I didn't see faces or hear particular words. Suppose it was impressions."

"You had their names. Monroe and Nixon."

"You're right. Forgot that. Like I said, it's like a dream."

"How did Nixon find you? He's a stranger." Ianto turned his head to look at Jack. "Why wasn't it someone you know!"

Jack didn't know what to say, stunned by Ianto's apparent distress. "I don't know," he managed to get out eventually and reached to touch Ianto. The Welshman leant forward and Jack cradled him, holding him tight. "Why does it matter so much?" he asked gently.

"Because if he can do it," began Ianto haltingly, "others should be able to. They could … send messages."

"I don't think it works like that," responded Jack gently.

"No, it wouldn't. That would be too easy." Raising his head, Ianto eased out of Jack's hold but Jack retained a grip of his arm, not letting him leave the vehicle.

"Who do you want to hear from, Ianto?"

After a long pause, the Welshman said very softly, "Lisa. I'd like to know … she's okay. To be forgiven for what I did to her."

"You did nothing to her! It was the Cybermen. You cared for her as best you could and she loved you for as long as she could."

"I know you're right, Jack, but it's hard to believe." Ianto turned back to face his boss and lover. "Thanks for saying it." This time Jack let him go when he moved to open the door.

Joining him at the back of the SUV, Jack said, "I could always try and contact her, next time I die."

"You know I hope there won't be a next time." Ianto managed a smile. "Now help me with this Weevil, it'll be waking up soon."

In the Hub, with the Weevil secured, Jack and Ianto drank hot mugs of coffee with Toshiko and went over all she had found. Monroe did not have any known connections to the drugs world so tracing a dealer would be time-consuming if not impossible. A surer way of him admitting his guilt was to confront him with the evidence and hope it led to a confession. They agreed to pass on all they knew to Detective Swanson and let her take it forward. Toshiko was finally sent home, Jack's praises ringing in her ears, and the two men descended to Jack's quarters.

"You know, we'd make great detectives," said Jack climbing down the ladder after Ianto. "Harkness, Jones and Sato, Private Investigators. Has a ring to it."

"I have enough to do already."

Jack laughed, wrapping his arms round Ianto who was in the process of removing his shoes. "I meant instead of this."

"Like that's going to happen! Get off me, I need some sleep."

Far from releasing him, Jack held on tighter, hands moving over Ianto's body familiarly. "No sleep for you tonight, Jones. I have plans for you."

Ianto's groan of resignation soon became one of pleasure and all thoughts of Lisa were banished. Which is just what Jack had intended.

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_Hope you enjoyed that, do let me know._


	3. Should I be Worried?

**Should I Be Worried?**

The Torchwood Hub was quiet as was now its normal state. Even when the three people in the team were all present they did not make enough noise to fill the vast space. To fill this void, Gwen Cooper had put on the radio but with the volume low, just enough to banish the absolute silence but not enough to be obtrusive.

Currently she was on the upper level, standing on the walkway outside the hothouse. She had watered the plants – a task she had taken on after Owen Harper's final death – and was now leaning on the railing surveying the lower levels. There was nothing special to see. The only movement came from Jack Harkness who was in the office, his back to her, writing something or other on the see-through board and referring to notes on his desk from time to time.

"Should I be worried?"

"Damn it, Ianto! Don't do that!" she gasped, hand over her heart, surprised at hearing his voice from right behind her. "You nearly scared me to death!"

"Sorry." Ianto Jones took a pace forward, as silent as he had been when approaching her, and looked down. "What's Jack doing that's so interesting?"

"Nothing." Recovered from the shock, she resumed her position with her forearms on the railing. "Don't even know what he's working on."

"Rift equations. Trying to find the right one to open the Rift so we can send the Arcot back."

He mirrored her position, their upper arms brushing against one another. They stayed like that for a few minutes, silently surveying the Hub.

"What did you mean?" she asked eventually.

"When?"

"You asked me something when you frightened the crap out of me." She turned her head to look at him, admiring his profile. He appeared almost serene these days, as if all the uncertainties and worries that had bothered him so much in the past no longer mattered.

"Did I?" He considered this, then smiled. "Oh yes. I asked if I should be worried."

"About what?"

"About the way you were staring at Jack."

"I often stare at Jack." She returned her gaze to their boss, now standing by the desk with papers in both hands.

"I've noticed."

She sighed. "He's got … something about him. It's difficult not to look at him."

"I know." He paused then said, "So? You haven't answered my question."

"About being worried?" She twisted to face him, one elbow still on the railing. "The way Jack feels about you? You don't have to be worried about me or anyone else."

Ianto was looking at her as she said this and noticed the regret in her eyes. If events had panned out differently, it was quite possible that it would have been Gwen with whom Jack had forged a relationship; she would definitely have been willing. "Do you mind?"

The grin that transformed her features told him all he needed to know but she said it anyway. "No, Ianto, I don't mind. I couldn't have handled him as well as you; we'd have been rowing all the time! Besides, I have Rhys and I love him, very much."

"Good. I'd hate for there to be bad feeling between us."

"Never." She closed the gap between them and kissed him chastely on the lips. "There is one thing I'm curious about, if you feel like sharing."

"You can ask, don't promise to answer."

She turned to look at Jack who was back at the board scribbling furiously. "I've always wondered how he does it." She paused when Ianto started in surprise. "Not that!" she chortled. "How does he keep a tan all year round? Mine's always gone a week after a holiday."

He let out a relieved chuckle. "I have no idea."

"Really? You're not keeping it secret?"

"I really have no idea. One thing I can tell you … it's all over."

"Everywhere? You mean, even ... down …"

"Even there."

"Hey, you two!" The shout echoed around the Hub and Ianto and Gwen looked down at Jack, standing outside the office with hands on hips. "Meeting, five minutes."

With a rueful smile, Gwen picked up the watering can and went off along the walkway. Ianto jogged down the steps and across the lower level, past the pool and the water tower to join Jack who watched him all the way. He was frowning as Ianto reached the work area, wondering what he and Gwen had been talking about.

"Ianto," he asked, "should I be worried?"

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_Hope you enjoyed that ..._


	4. Tina Helps Out

**Tina Helps Out**

The air smelt different, unlike anything she had encountered before. The closest she could come was that it smelt like a bag of pear drops when it had been opened for the first time. Tina liked pear drops. She pushed through the bushes that enclosed her on both sides and arched over her head creating a tunnel. Normally she would have been frightened for Tina was a timid girl, small for her age and unused to the rough and tumble of life with lots of other children. She much preferred sitting with Mummy, breathing in her flowery perfume and watching the words and pictures on the pages as they were turned while Mummy read to her. So it was with unaccustomed determination that Tina pushed forward towards the patch of yellow light at the end of tunnel.

Finally she pushed aside the last branches, stumbling slightly as her slipper caught in the hem of her nightdress, and looked around her. It was a lovely place, just like those in her book. Trees and bushes were scattered around the fringe of a grassy meadow with lots of wild flowers in it; daisies, bluebells, primroses and daffodils grew in swathes. Glancing down, Tina realised she was standing in a patch of daisies so deep they covered her bunny slippers. With a delighted giggle, she stooped and picked a daisy, then another. Skipping across the meadow she picked more flowers, of all types, until she was quite a long way from the tunnel where she had emerged. She was about to pick a lovely yellow cowslip when she heard someone talking. A lady. Listening hard, she caught another lady's voice too, hard and strident, not at all like Mummy's. For the first time since she had arrived in this place, Tina felt a little frightened but decided she would go on just a little further – to the next clump of primroses – and peek at the people. If she made herself small, they wouldn't see her.

"Anything, Tosh?" asked a lady dressed in black trousers and jacket with a bright red top underneath. She was the one with the strident voice.

"No." The other lady, who looked like her friend Namiko's mummy with nice-shaped eyes, spoke more softly but waved a strange black box around. "I thought I had something then but it's gone again, whatever it was."

The dark lady sighed and looked down at a man lying on the ground. "I just hope Jack can figure this one out, when he wakes up!" She nudged him with her foot but he didn't make a noise.

"Should be any time now, Gwen," soothed Toshiko. "Any sign of it coming back?" She looked at the skies, blue and cloudless.

"Not sure we'll get a warning. It has a way of –" Gwen turned at the sound of movement in the bushes behind her.

"Look what I found." Owen came into the clearing, his hand holding tightly to Tina's shoulder. "She was spying on us."

Tina had never been so frightened in her life, not even on her first day at nursery school when Mummy had left her all alone. She whimpered as the large man dragged her into the sunshine to stand by the ladies and the man sleeping on the ground.

"It's a girl," said Gwen, getting over her surprise. "Hello, sweetheart." She crouched down and smiled at Tina.

"Hello," Tina ventured quietly; she had been taught to be polite at all times.

"What's your name?"

"Tina."

The little girl was not quite so frightened now; the dark lady was smiling at her and she had a gap between her two front teeth which made her look friendly. However, the hand on Tina's shoulder still gripped her hard and now shook her.

"Are there any others with you?" the tall man demanded. "Where did you come from?"

"Careful!" protested Gwen, reaching out to the girl who shied away as much as she could. "It's all right, love, he won't hurt you. Let her go, Owen."

"You get it out of her then." Owen released the girl and went to kneel by the man who was sleeping.

Toshiko waited for him to join her and asked, "Where did you find her?"

"Back there, she was behind a tree." Owen gestured over his shoulder. He did not look up, making another examination of Jack's dead body. He had no way of knowing when Jack would revive but it kept him busy and his medical training compelled him to do something.

Toshiko stepped forward and crouched down before Tina, smiled nicely and held up the box. Tina didn't like the look of this and struggled to get free of Gwen's restraining hand but only managed to drop her flowers.

"My flowers!" she cried, close to tears with disappointment; they were such lovely flowers.

"It's all right, sweetheart," said Gwen. "I'll help you pick them up. They're very pretty." The two of them started to collect together the flowers once more.

"She's from the other side," reported Toshiko, reading from the scanner's display. "Maybe we can get out the same way she got in."

"Take it slow with her," cautioned Gwen, glancing at her colleague, "she's frightened. Not surprising given how Owen was handling her!" Gwen shot him a glance then turned her attention to the little girl; she judged her to be about four years old. "Tina," she said, her tone friendly, "how did you get here?"

Tina didn't answer, too busy picking up every one of the flowers she had dropped. She knew the woman was talking to her but she didn't want to answer, didn't want to be told off for being naughty, because it was naughtiness that had brought her here.

"We won't hurt you, Tina," added Toshiko gently.

"Come on, kid, tell us," said Owen from the centre of the clearing. He tried to be jokey and friendly but his deep, loud voice frightened Tina who kept her mouth shut in a thin line.

At that moment the sky darkened and a large shape swooped down on the clearing, roaring defiance and spouting flames from its nostrils. The three Torchwood operatives reacted immediately, drawing their weapons and aiming at the attacker. Tina, thoroughly alarmed, dropped her flowers yet again and edged through the legs of the adults. She didn't know where she was going, just that she had to get away. Not looking at her feet, she blindly knocked into Jack's body and fell over him. At that very moment - with shots being fired, flame hissing down from the skies and the noise of the beast's beating wings drowning out all else - the man below Tina gave a great gasp and flung up his arms, arching his back to rear off the ground. She screamed and froze where she was, lying across him.

Jack found reviving from the dead disorientating at the best of times but on this occasion it was even more so. In the first few seconds, he recognised the beast attacking them as the Oriflux of Gwillos. Next he took in his team, bravely defending themselves and him. Finally, he realised a child was on top of him. It was a lot to assimilate but out of training and habit he focussed on the immediate danger. Grabbing the child, he rose to his feet tucking her under one arm.

"The hole!" he called, waving to the woodland.

"We can't get back that way!" protested Gwen.

"It'll protect us and that's what we need right now!" Jack shouted back. "Come on!" He urged them on.

Owen, Toshiko and Gwen continued to fire at the Oriflux as they walked backwards, following Jack. The beast seemed to understand it was about to lose its prey and redoubled its efforts, catching Gwen a glancing blow with its talons. She went down, rolled and pushed herself up again, her left shoulder torn and bleeding. Owen stood in front of her, shielding her from further attack which left her and Toshiko closest to the entrance to the large hole by which they had come into this world. Jack, having pushed Tina into the hole, surged past the two women and used his Webley to good effect against the Oriflux. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Owen, they covered the others' retreat and then quickly followed them.

Tina sat in the hole – which was really a short tunnel in the earth – with her arms wrapped round her knees and her back pressed tight against the wall. She was shaking and tears dribbled down her face to drip off her chin. She was very frightened now and she wished she had been a good girl and not disobeyed her mummy. She watched as the four adults crammed themselves into the tunnel with her: Gwen and Owen opposite and Jack and Toshiko next to her.

"Owen, take a look at Gwen's shoulder," ordered Jack, settling his greatcoat beneath him tidily before sitting down. "Tosh, keep an eye on our friend out there. Let me know when he's gone. And then one of you can tell me who this is." He smiled toothily at Tina who continued to cry quietly.

"Her name's Tina," said Gwen through gritted teeth as Owen ripped her top away from the wound. "Careful! That cost, you know!" she protested.

"If you'd rather die of blood poisoning, I'll leave it!" he replied sarkily, ignoring her. "Christ, how am I supposed to work with no light?"

"She comes from the other side," said Toshiko. "Will this help?" Toshiko held up her PDA - the display gave off a surprising amount of light – and shone it on Gwen's shoulder.

"Better than nothing, I suppose," grumbled Owen.

Jack ignored the continuing complaints from his team, used to blanking them out. He continued to smile at the little girl and reached a hand to rub against her back. "Hey, you're cold! Come sit on my knee and I'll wrap my coat round you and we'll both be warm." He suited actions to words and soon she was wrapped inside his coat. "There, that's better." He rocked her back and fro and kept on talking quietly, nonsense for the most part until he felt her relax against him and stop crying.

Tina felt much better sitting with this man. He had a nice voice, like Buzz Lightyear, smelt nice and he knew just how to hold her. A lot of adults, like her Auntie Beverley, couldn't get it right and she ended up feeling like a parcel. But not this man, he was almost as good as Mummy. Thinking of Mummy reminded her of bedtime and the book they were reading. Peering out of the folds of the coat, she looked at the others who were still arguing but more quietly. It could be, she thought, it could be them. With great daring she decided to ask.

"'Scuse me," she said just loud enough for Jack to hear, "are you Peter?"

"Peter?" he answered her, looking down into her tear-streaked face.

She nodded hopefully, eyes wide and fixed on his face. "High King Peter. And is that Queen Susan, Queen Lucy and King Edmund?" She pointed at Gwen, Toshiko and Owen in turn. "Oh please," she continued without waiting for an answer and unaware the others were listening too, "this is Narnia, isn't it?"

Jack got the reference immediately, he had read _The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe_ to his daughter, Alice. For a moment he contemplated accepting her identification then decided against it. He didn't want to lie to this trusting little girl. "No, but we're friends of theirs. I'm Jack, and that's Gwen, Owen and Tosh. You know all about Narnia then?"

She was nodding again. "Oh yes. Mummy …" her voice caught and she had to swallow hard, grateful when Jack hugged her closer. "Mummy's reading it to me," she managed. "Is this Narnia? 'Cos I found it at the back of my cupboard. I know it's not a wardrobe but it's almost the same, isn't it?" She looked at him hopefully. Knowing they were friends of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy had given her the courage to admit how she had arrived. They would understand that she hadn't meant to be naughty and get out of bed when she was supposed to be asleep. They would help her explain to Mummy.

"It certainly is." He glanced at the others over Tina's head and saw they understood: this could be their way back. "Where's the cupboard? In your bedroom?"

"Yes. My toy cupboard, though it not all full of toys. Daddy's heavy things are in there too."

Jack laughed, his mind working a mile a minute wondering what these 'heavy things' were. "And where do you live, Tina? Do you know the address?"

"Mummy made me learn it so I could tell people if I got lost," she said proudly. Sitting up a little, she recited, "Christina Marie Levins, 42 St Michael's Road, Llandaff, Cardiff." She smiled up at him. "That's in Wales."

"So it is." He hugged her to him and they both laughed though neither quite knew why. "So you got into your cupboard in your house and came here." He was looking at Toshiko as he said this, eyebrows raised questioningly. She nodded and started tapping at her PDA.

"I didn't know I was coming here," she admitted, leaning back against him. "I heard noises so I 'vestigated. It was quite a surprise to end up here." Her eyebrows rose comically.

"I bet. Were you by the river?" he asked. He had no idea if there was a river in this place, merely wanted to encourage her tell him more.

"No. In the meadow with the flowers. My flowers!"

"Don't worry, sweetheart," reassured Gwen, reaching across with her good arm to stroke the girl's fair hair. "We can pick some more."

"Not with that dragon flying about." Tina shook her head decidedly.

"She's got a point," muttered Owen. "What about it, Tosh? That thing gone yet?"

Without looking up from the PDA, Toshiko said, "No. It's hovering around the clearing. That address," she added, glancing at Jack, "it's close to a Rift hotspot."

"Must be another place where the two realities are rubbing up against one another," mused Jack, still absently rocking Tina. "Let's hope it stays open until we can get there."

"Which won't be anytime soon with bozo hanging about," put in Owen. "Maybe next time you'll think before charging into something you know nothing about!" he accused Jack.

"And miss out on visiting Narnia!" Jack grinned at Owen's frowning expression. "Never!"

"He's incorrigible," said Gwen with a resigned air. She shifted slightly to ease her shoulder which ached even through the painkillers Owen had provided. "The other portal was open for about an hour, right?"

"Sixty six point eight minutes," corrected Toshiko.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Like I said. Tina must have been here a while before we found her if she had time to pick all those flowers so we haven't got long."

"We're going to have to risk it," said Owen, peering out of the mouth of the tunnel.

"I could set up a kinetic field," suggested Toshiko. "That should distract the Oriflux and buy us some time."

"Let's do it." Owen was edging out of the tunnel, scanning the skies.

"Hold on." Gwen grabbed his jacket and pulled him back. "We've got to be sure Tina can find this place again."

Hearing her name, Tina sat up a little straighter; she was so comfortable she had been on the verge of dozing off. Looking round, she saw the two ladies and the man staring at her and it scared her again. Shrinking back against Jack, she looked up at him. He was smiling at her, that nice one which showed all his teeth, and his eyes were all crinkly.

"Tina, I need you to be very brave and to help us. Do you think you could do that?" he said, keeping eye contact with her.

"I don't know." Her voice was small and unsteady, her timidity returning.

"It's time to go home now, Tina. Back to 42 St Michael's Road and your toys and your Mummy and Daddy."

She nodded, biting her lip. She wanted to go home even if Mummy was cross with her. But she had walked a long way from the bushes and she wasn't sure she could find them again. If she couldn't, would she be here forever? All on her own with dragons after her? Tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

"I … don't know the way."

"We'll help you, don't worry." Jack gently brushed away the tears. "We're coming with you because we need to leave … Narnia as well. We have to get a message to Peter and the others. It's quite important." Jack hoped that using the characters in the book would help. "Shall we try it?" Tina swallowed hard and nodded. "Good girl." Jack kissed her forehead. "Right, Tosh, do your thing. Gwen, you up for this?"

"I'm all right. It was just a graze." The slashing cuts were in fact quite deep but Owen's treatment had stopped the bleeding and willpower would keep her on her feet.

"Good. Owen, take point. I'll be right behind you with Tina. Tosh and Gwen, you bring up the rear."

They put the plan into action. The kinetic field confused the Oriflux which flew off to the north. Owen led the way back to where he had found Tina. By gentle cajoling, Jack helped Tina remember she had come up a slope and they walked through a band of young trees down into a meadow with lot of flowers. Tina recognised it and wriggled to be set down – Jack had been carrying her up until then – moving from one swathe of flowers to another. She would have liked to pick some but the others urged her on, trying to prod at her memory of where she had entered this world. Unfortunately, the little girl could not recall and she ran around frantically trying all sorts of places.

"Tina, stop!" Jack caught hold of her, kneeling in front of her. "Let me help you remember. Close your eyes and picture your toy cupboard. Tell me what it's like."

"We don't have time for this," pointed out Owen, standing a few paces away, gun in hand and scanning the surroundings.

"Shut up!" said Gwen, also on the alert. "We're going nowhere without her so let Jack do his thing." The three Torchwood operatives stood in a rough circle around their boss.

Concentrating on Tina, Jack drew out what had happened to her. Haltingly, she said, "The cupboard's big and I got right inside, up to the back. The noises were coming from behind it and I pushed, just a little bit, and my hand went through. It was just like Lucy and the wardrobe so I pushed a bit more and then … then I put my head through and I could see green things. Next minute, I was all the way through and in the bushes, pushing them away to get to the light."

"That was very brave," encouraged Jack. "And what did you see then?"

"This." She flung out an arm to encompass the meadow.

"Then what?"

"Umm." Tina was trying very hard to remember but it was difficult; so much had happened since. "I picked some daisies," she said after a few minutes, smiling at the memory. "They came up right over my bunny slippers." She and Jack looked down at her red and white slippers.

"And that was where you were standing after coming out of the bushes?"

"Um-hum."

"Good girl." He looked up at the others. "Need to find a clump of daisies by the bushes."

"What's a daisy?" queried Owen.

Toshiko groaned. "Round white flower with lots of thin petals." She scanned the ground and picked one, thrusting it at him. "Like this."

They spread out to scour the large meadow, Tina back in Jack's arms. Gwen had just spotted a likely clump when a shadow fell across them and the air was filled with noise; the Oriflux was back. Owen and Toshiko took up a stance facing the threat, firing their weapons. Jack put Tina down, pushing her behind him, and joined them.

Gwen took Tina's hand and ran to the clump of daisies. "Is this is, Tina? Are these your daisies?" she asked urgently.

"I think so." The little girl pushed at the bushes, revealing a rough tunnel. "Yes!" She pushed her way in.

"Over here!" yelled Gwen above the noise. "This way!"

As soon as they acknowledged her shout, Gwen went into the tunnel after Tina, having to crawl on all fours which did nothing for her shoulder which ached even more. Her colleagues fell back on the spot and Toshiko entered the tunnel followed by Owen. Jack stayed for another minute or so, giving them time to make their way well into the greenery before holstering his Webley and following. It was a tight squeeze for him but luckily Owen had widened the path a bit. The Oriflux raged and let out a blast of flame which singed the bushes; Jack felt the heat on his backside and crawled even faster. A moment later he passed through an invisible barrier and was in a small cupboard, so low he had to stay on all fours. He crawled on, past toys in various states of disarray, evidence of the others passing through, and cracked his knee on a dumbbell: one of Daddy's 'heavy things'. Loud voices drew him on.

"Who the hell are you!" demanded a loud, male voice. "And what are you doing in my daughter's room!"

"Jack!" Tina broke free of her mummy's hold and ran to Jack as he emerged, flinging her arms round his neck and pressing her face against his. "I thought the dragon got you!"

Twisting round, Jack sat down and pulled Tina onto his knee. "No, my sweet, take more than a dragon to get me." He looked round at the others crowded into the small room: Toshiko was standing by the door, talking on her mobile; Owen was beside her, holding back an irate man; Gwen was attempting to calm a woman while also keeping her off Jack. It was bedlam and Jack laughed; what a way to get back to their own reality! "Tosh, seal off the opening."

She put away her mobile and nodded, reaching for the PDA. "Ianto's on his way with the SUV. We've been gone three days."

"What!" Gwen swung round to face them. "How am I supposed to explain that to Rhys?"

"Field trip," said Owen laconically. "Will you hold still!" he said to the struggling man in his arms. "Your kid's fine.

"She certainly is." Jack was standing now, moving out of Toshiko's way, and passed the little girl over. "You go to Mummy, Tina. Gwen, why don't you make us all a nice cup of tea and we can discuss this sensibly." His look told her to add a little something to Mummy and Daddy's drinks.

An hour later, the team was in the SUV heading into town. There were plenty of grumbles from them all about the way Jack had led them unknowingly into a parallel reality and taken away three days of their lives. Gwen and Owen went home as soon as they reached the Hub and Toshiko stayed only long enough to link the PDA to a PC and start the download of all she had discovered about the other world. When she had gone, Ianto grabbed Jack and hung on grimly, relieved not to be alone any more.

The following day an enormous basket of spring flowers was delivered to Miss Christina Marie Levins at 42 St Michael's Road, Llandaff, Cardiff. Neither she nor her parents ever discovered who sent it though Tina had dreams about meadows and dragons and men in long coats for the rest of her life.

* * *

_You'll have guessed by now what I have been reading ... Hope you enjoyed this one, don't forget to let me know! _


	5. Elusive Sleep

**Elusive Sleep**

The day was winding to a close. The Torchwood team had been moderately busy: dealing with a Rift opening in the morning and spending all afternoon on paperwork and individual projects. Gwen looked up from her desk, stretched her arms above her head and let out a deep sigh. "That's it, I've had enough."

Jack, standing beside Owen's desk, looked across. "Finished the incident report?"

"Uh-huh. Just emailed it to you. So I'm going home." She reached out and powered down her PC. "It's gone six and I intend to spend the evening with my fiancé."

"Oh, I've just made coffee for you," said Ianto, walking up by the water tower with a tray in his hands. "I suppose you don't want it."

"'Cos I want it! Hand it over." She took the mug and sipped. "That's good." She stood and followed him to the work area where he was handing round the other mugs.

"You not having one?" asked Toshiko, looking up at Ianto. There had only been four mugs on the tray.

"No. No coffee after five o'clock, that's my new regimen," he answered with a weary smile.

"Regimen? What's this?" asked Owen, swivelling round in his chair.

With four pairs of eyes trained on him, Ianto felt stupid for having said anything – they'd never let it go if he didn't explain. "I've not been sleeping very well and they recommend –"

"Who recommends?" demanded Owen. "I'm your bleeding doctor. You should ask me not go self-medicating!"

"This website I found. And I don't think you can call cutting out coffee self-medicating." Ianto thrust out his chin defiantly.

"You should still have come to me. How long you not been sleeping?" pressed Owen.

"A while. And, if you don't mind, I'd rather not have a medical consultation in front of spectators."

"You should try this wonderful herbal tea," interjected Toshiko. "I've got some at home that I take when I can't sleep. I swear by it."

Owen looked disgusted. "That perfumed water! You have got to be kidding!"

Gwen, sitting on the corner of Owen's desk, decided to join in. "My mam always recommended –"

"I appreciate your suggestions," interrupted Ianto firmly, "but I'd rather tackle this my way."

Jack had been quietly sipping his coffee, observing Ianto minutely. The Welshman looked tired with dark circles under his eyes and a slump to his shoulders. Thinking back, Jack realised Ianto had been getting worse over the past week or more and he thought he knew why. The two men were spending more evenings and nights together, very pleasant nights, and when Jack was called to attend an alert or Weevil hunt Ianto joined him. And, Jack thought, even when they managed a night without alien interruptions, Ianto was restless and often got up in the early hours to find Jack who barely needed any sleep. It was clear that the sleepless nights had finally caught up with him; cat-naps during the day when it wasn't busy were no substitute.

"I think," said Jack, cutting across everyone else, "I have the answer."

"Gonna stop harassing him for sex, are you?" sniggered Owen. "Meeting your demands can be bloody exhausting."

"And you know this how?" asked Gwen, grinning widely.

"Observation."

Ianto was aghast. "What!"

"Anyone can see Jack keeps you up all night." Owen rolled his eyes when Gwen and Toshiko burst out laughing. "That's not what I meant!" he protested, realising what he had said too late.

"Nevertheless," put in Jack calmly but his eyes were alight with mischief, "you're partly right. Ianto helps on all the night alerts and it's not fair. As of tonight, we're reinstituting night cover. Ianto will take a complete week off nights so I'll be calling on you lot instead. " He pointed at Owen, Gwen and Toshiko in turn. "And tonight it's you … Owen."

"What! That's not fair."

"You're the one most concerned about Ianto," pointed out Toshiko. To Ianto, she said, "I'll bring in some of that tea tomorrow."

"Look, I don't want this," protested Ianto.

"Too bad." Jack smiled at him. "Pack up and go home, get a decent night's sleep for once." He went back into the office as the others also started to pack up, Owen continuing to grumble under his breath.

Ianto sighed. By opening his big mouth he had upset his colleagues and got them recommending sleep remedies; Gwen was wittering on about something at that moment. More importantly, Jack's new-found solicitude appeared to mean no more nights together, at least for a while. Ianto did not want any of it. Why, oh why had he said anything!

-ooOoo-

The following morning was a continuation of the same. Owen insisted on giving Ianto a full medical and wanted the most intimate details of his daily routine. Toshiko tried to press the herbal tea on him and Gwen and Jack looked at him queerly and asked about his sleeping, enquiries he brushed off. It was becoming a complete pain and one he did not have the patience to endure in his normal stoical way. He had slept no better the previous night, missing both his coffee and Jack. Deciding there was only one way to proceed, he came up with a plan.

Coming into the Boardroom for the morning meeting, Gwen was the first to spot the white boxes – each 15 by 15 centimetres – on the table. There was one each for her and the others except Ianto.

"What's this?" she asked Ianto who was pouring coffee at the side table.

"Ooo, presents!" exclaimed Jack, entering the room and pouncing on his box. "It's empty," he complained.

"That's right." Ianto handed round the coffee as Owen and Toshiko entered and sat down. "You all seem very interested in my sleeping … difficulties and have lots of suggestions about how to solve it. So," he sat down, cradling his own coffee in both hands, "write down what you want me to do, put in the box and I shall try each in turn."

"Okay," agreed Toshiko easily. Her herbal tea bags would fit nicely in the box.

"One night's not really enough," said Owen. "Some remedies take more than that to work."

"Jack's 'kindly' given me a whole week of undisturbed nights," he glared at Jack, "so you have two nights each. I'll start with Tosh, then Owen, Gwen and Jack." He held up a hand to stop the interruptions he could see were coming. "No discussion. Just put the instructions in the box with whatever may be necessary."

Jack was examining the box, turning it this way and that. "Mine won't fit." He looked entirely innocent but no one was fooled.

"Then use an extra bag. Whatever. Just put the instructions in there." Ianto sipped his drink. "Oh, and Owen, knocking me out doesn't count so no sedatives."

"I wouldn't!" protested the doctor, trying to look as innocent as Jack.

"Let's get on with the meeting," said Gwen. "We've got a likely Rift opening in an hour."

-ooOoo-

The following days started identically with Ianto being scrutinised for signs of a decent night's sleep. It didn't happen with Toshiko's herbal tea, taken an hour before bed. It tasted pleasant but Ianto was still awake in the early hours of the morning pacing round the flat. The sleeping pills supplied by Owen had no effect at night but made Ianto sluggish and irritable all the following day. Gwen's glass of hot milk with nutmeg and a teaspoon of honey worked a little better but the goal was a full night's rest and he only got two hours.

On day seven of the experiment, Jack presented Ianto with his white box with instructions not to open it until nine that evening. Worn out by his sleepless nights, Ianto took it without comment and left for home. His evening ritual of a hot bath, soft music, comfortable clothes and a bland meal (omelette this evening) relaxed him and at nine o'clock he was ready to open Jack's box. Before he could, the doorbell rang.

"Hi," said Jack when Ianto opened the door to him. "Ready?"

"For what?"

Jack stopped on the threshold. "You opened the box yet?"

"No. I was just going to." Ianto led the way into the living room and retrieved the box. "Did you want me for something?"

"Just open the box." Jack threw off his greatcoat and leant against the wall.

The box contained three Scrabble tiles. Ianto looked at them then at Jack and then back at the letters. "What is this, Jack? We're playing Scrabble?"

"Tut-tut." Jack walked to Ianto's side and took the tiles, arranging them on the coffee table. "Best remedy in the universe for insomnia is …"

Ianto looked down at the tiles which spelt out S - E - X. "Not with you it's not!" He sat on the sofa, unimpressed.

"That's because I've not been trying to send you to sleep before. But now you will be the recipient of the Harkness patented remedy for all kinds of insomnia and related disorders." Jack leant across Ianto, hands either side of the Welshman's hips, and gently kissed his lips. "You promised to try all our remedies."

"So I did." After a week without Jack in his bed, Ianto was looking forward to this even if he still didn't get any sleep.

-ooOoo-

"God, you look better," said Gwen the next day.

"Thank you. I feel it." Ianto smiled at her. "Coffee and a couple of chocolate digestives."

"Cheers."

"You sleep last night?" asked Owen, swinging round on his chair.

"I certainly did. From eleven until seven, a full eight hours," confirmed Ianto depositing the doctor's coffee and biscuits before moving onto Toshiko. "And here's yours, Tosh."

"Thanks. Jack's remedy worked then?" she asked with a smile.

"Like a dream."

"What was it?" asked Owen dubiously. "Some alien potion? 'Cos I wasn't allowed sedatives so alien stuff is out too."

"There was nothing alien about it, Owen," said Jack coming out of the office and taking his mug from the tray and snagging the remaining biscuits. "Shall we tell them?" he asked Ianto with a small, intimate smile.

"Any way I can stop you?" He regarded Jack, raising one eyebrow in enquiry. "No, thought not. Okay, Jack gave me a very relaxing massage. That's it, whole story. Right, Jack?"

"Right," agreed Jack, nodded vigorously which didn't fool anyone. There was more to this story.

"Good. I'm off to the Tourist Office." Ianto left, taking some papers for filing with him.

"Come on, Jack," wheedled Gwen, "that really all you gave him?" She perched on the side edge of Toshiko's desk.

"Well …" He smiled conspiratorially. "You won't tell Ianto I said anything?"

"'Cos not. Spill, Jack."

"Okay. After the massage, full body with peach nut oil –"

"That's what the smell is!" cried Toshiko. "I was wondering where is was coming from."

"It does linger. Anyway, after that, when Ianto was lying on the bed all relaxed –"

"And naked," put in Gwen, imagining the scene and growing warm.

"That too. I –"

"Jack!" The shout came from the cog door where Ianto was standing looking furiously at his boss up on the raised work area. "One more word and you will never, never ever, see me like that again."

Jack bit his lip and his face screwed up in thought. He so wanted to tell everyone what had happened next but he decided Ianto was mad enough to go through with his threat and a good story was not worth losing access to the gorgeous Welshman. "Sorry, kids," he said finally. "But if any of you have trouble sleeping, let me know!" With a beaming smile at them all, he sauntered into the office.

* * *

_I'm sure you can imagine the massage better that I could describe it ... hee-hee. _


	6. An Answer

**An Answer**

The bare rocks shone with an inner yellow light giving the landscape an unhealthy appearance. The two men stood at one end of a narrow gorge, hidden behind large rocks occasionally peering out in the direction of the settlement. Their pursuers were not far behind them and would soon be in sight; they had to be ready.

Jack Harkness sighed deeply, twisting until his back was against the yellow rock. He fixed his eye on his seated companion, a blond humanoid about five foot five tall. He was wearing a tailored jacket with long sleeves and high collar that almost reached his knees over narrow-legged trousers, the whole ensemble in a garish puce and deep grey stripe. Except for the colour, Jack was reminded of the Nehru jackets worn back on 20th century Earth, thousands of years ago and millions of light years away.

"How is it," asked Jack, "that within ten minutes of meeting you I'm running?"

"I could ask the same thing." The accompanying cheeky grin was reminiscent of earlier incarnations of this last surviving Time Lord.

"Oh, like this doesn't happen to you all the time!" scoffed Jack, peering around the rock and seeing a distant cloud of dust: the pursuers were closing in.

The Doctor looked up from his work on the terimindiac pulsar. "Actually no, it doesn't. Been a bit quiet lately." He paused. "I was starting to miss it until this flared up."

"How's that coming?" Jack nodded to the pulsar. "They'll be here in half an hour or so."

"It'll be ready." The Doctor bent to his work again. "You worry too much, Jack. Not like you."

Jack grunted non-committedly and, after another look out beyond their hiding place, he sank down on his haunches and watched the Time Lord work. They had not met in centuries yet they had taken up where they had left off, as if the intervening years meant nothing. Jack wasn't sure whether to be pleased or annoyed. His life for the past hundred years had been settled and secure, happy even. Raising bovines on an out-of-the-way world was not exciting but after the life he had led, Jack was enjoying the respite. Then The Doctor had appeared, racing into the saloon where Jack had been enjoying an ale and demanding help.

The Doctor looked up, wondering at the prolonged silence. Jack looked just the same, no wrinkles or grey hair to show his extreme age, yet there was something different in his stance, the way he bore himself. "You're happy again," said The Doctor, realising what had changed.

"I was!"

The Time Lord gave one last tweak to the pulsar and placed it on the ground beside him. "This little … adventure won't change anything. Once we've got those three to lead us to the TARDIS I'll be on my way and you can go back to … to whatever you're doing here. What are you doing here?"

"Farming."

The Doctor burst out laughing, giggling in a way unique to this incarnation. "You, farming!"

"Something wrong with that? Makes a change from saving the world." He looked away. His long years trying to emulate The Doctor, standing up for the oppressed and the needy, had cost him dear.

Gradually the giggles ceased. The Doctor realised he had offended Jack and with a sudden insight understood how: the Time Lord bore the same emotional scars. "You look happy on it," he said finally.

"I am." He recognised that this was The Doctor's way of apologising and accepted it. "With so much time on my hands, I can try anything." He smiled wryly. "And everything."

The Doctor nodded, returning the smile. "Easier to keep track of you too."

"What? You keep track of me?"

"Can't help it. Fixed point in time kind of sticks out." The Doctor shrugged. "When you were charging round the galaxy it was like fireworks in my head. Gave me a migraine."

"Good." Jack stretched to look round the rock to check on the pursuers. Knowing The Doctor was always aware of him was strangely comforting and he had to hide the sudden wave of emotion. "They're getting nearer."

"Umm. Nothing we can do until they get closer." The Time Lord stretched out his short legs and made himself comfortable. "Tell me about your farm."

Jack looked at him, eyes narrowed, and decided to take the enquiry at face value. So he told him of the land he owned, the beasts he raised and the crops he grew. All of which he did alone having decided against long-term relationships centuries before. "It's a good life," he concluded.

"Sounds it." The Doctor roused himself, crouching next to Jack and looking out of the gorge. The pursuers were getting near. "And you really don't miss travelling?"

"No. Besides, I still have plenty of years for that." Jack, deliberately not looking at his companion, asked, "Doctor, do you know how it will end? How I will end?"

The Time Lord did not answer, instead reaching for the pulsar and getting ready to activate it. "You know what to do, Jack? Soon as they're in range I need you to draw them in here."

"Doctor." Jack fixed his gaze on The Doctor's face. He wanted an answer this time, had been fobbed off once too often to let the opportunity pass. He was due.

With a sigh, The Doctor said, "You'll save a world with your dying breath. And I'll be with you."

A familiar grin split Jack's face. He clapped a hand to The Doctor's shoulder and scrambled to his feet. His unnatural existence would end and he wouldn't be on his own; that was all the solace he needed. If it was to happen now or in a year, a century, a millennium or longer, Jack didn't mind. He would hold the knowledge in his heart and survive whatever came his way.

"Let's go get the TARDIS!" cried Jack, charging out of the gorge and startling the pursuers.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed that little interlude. _


	7. Birthday Afternoon

**Birthday Afternoon**

Ianto Jones drove the SUV, that was the first strange thing about the afternoon. Usually Jack Harkness, now sitting in the front passenger seat, insisted on driving and driving fast. Whenever the Torchwood team was out in the SUV, he would drive. It was fact of life as immutable as stone. And when he and Ianto were in the SUV together, Ianto was normally content to sit beside him, admittedly with his eyes closed when corners were taken on two wheels but content nonetheless.

But today Jack was a passenger and the second strange thing was that he did not mind. The pleased grin and bright eyes, taking in the passing Welsh scenery, showed him to be happy with this reversal of roles. One aspect of his happiness was that as he was not driving his hands were free to wander all over the body of the driver – or try to. Ianto was not averse to having Jack's hands on him, just not when he was driving a few hundredweight of metal along the streets. He had banned further explorations after mounting the pavement and demolishing a rubbish bin when under intense assault on an intimate part of his anatomy.

However, the strangest thing of all was that Jack and Ianto were not engaged on Torchwood business. This journey was a private trip for the two of them. Taking time out to indulge in private pursuits was rare for them both. Ianto had not had a day off for a month, unlike his colleagues who all took one or two days each week, and no amount of cajoling or even direct orders would make him. His life was wrapped up in Torchwood and its leader and he had no wish to spend time doing anything else. For his part, Jack did take occasional personal days going off on his own. He did not think it necessary to explain where he was going or why, either to his team or to Ianto, with whom he had a much closer relationship, and they all accepted this. Jack and Ianto did go out on dates, most often in the evening to a movie or a restaurant, but had never taken an afternoon off together. Until today.

It was a special occasion. Or at least Ianto had decided it was, Jack was not so sure.

"Why today?" he asked suddenly. "Why did you pick today?"

"I had to pick some day seeing as you wouldn't tell me when it really is."

"Couldn't not wouldn't," corrected Jack.

"So you say." Ianto indicated to turn right and slowed as he approached the junction.

"I did explain all this," said Jack wearily. He shifted in his seat to get a better view of Ianto's profile. "Boeshane has a calendar based on the Sirillian sun which has a much shorter orbit than here. Add in the paraxial variations and Emperor Jumizan's adjustments, plus the temporal influences and there is no way I can work out when my birthday is."

"Everyone should have a birthday and I've decided this is yours." Ianto shot a glance at his boss and lover. "Accept it."

"But why today of all days?" persisted Jack. "What's made you pick today?"

Ianto smiled. "I think 1 April is the perfect birthday for you."

"Humph! All Fools Day. You think I'm a fool?"

"Only sometimes." The loving glance he gave Jack softened his words. "Does it matter? I thought you liked having a birthday this morning."

Jack shrugged, attempting a blasé attitude but failing. He had enjoyed this pretend-birthday - so far. There had been a cake with mid-morning coffee and presents from the team: a pen from Gwen, real linen handkerchiefs from Toshiko and a bottle of Laphroaig from Owen. The purpose of this afternoon's trip was to receive Ianto's present. Jack found the need to drive out of Cardiff extremely puzzling; any relatively quiet spot (indoors or out) with a naked and willing Ianto was the only present he wanted.

"So, what is this present?" he asked.

The reply was the same as those he had received all the previous times he had asked. "Wait and see."

"I really only need you, Ianto," he said, leaning forward with hands ready to probe, stroke and grasp.

"Get back! Any more of that while I'm driving and I'm turning round right now and you'll never know what the present was."

"Umm, back to the Hub and naked hide and seek," said Jack suggestively.

"Oh no. Either you behave or you're on your own tonight."

"You'd do that to me?" Jack had his hand on his heart and a pained expression on his face. "To the birthday boy?"

"In a heartbeat."

"And people call me hard. Got nothing on you." Jack subsided back into his seat and stared out of the window, drumming his fingers on the dashboard.

Taking pity on him, Ianto said, "It's not far and I promise you will enjoy it."

"It's going to have to be something really special to top you, me and naked hide and seek."

And it was.

The Spitfire stood on the runway, small and perfect. Jack stroked it, patting it like a dog, to make sure it was real. He had last flown one of these over seventy years before and still rated it as one of the most perfect flying machines ever invented. (As he was comparing it to advanced space vehicles, large and small, this was a great compliment.) At the owner's invitation, Jack climbed onto the wing and then into the cockpit, settling in as easily now as he had all those years before. The instrumentation was exactly the same as he remembered and he didn't need the owner's briefing but listened courteously. Finally the owner climbed down and the propeller was spun, catching almost immediately. Jack closed the canopy and with a thumbs up to the ground crew and a wave to Ianto, taxied out further onto the runway. Once he had clearance, he gained speed and in a trice was airborne. For an hour, Jack was lord of the skies. He flew the plane out and around the airfield, veering right and left, climbing and diving as he tested her limits. With a flourish he looped the loop and brought her in low, buzzing the watching group. Finally, when his time was up, he brought her in for a perfect landing and taxied to the hangar. He was very sorry when he had to walk away from her.

-ooOoo-

"I see it was a success," commented Toshiko, putting on her leather jacket.

"Sorry?" Ianto stopped.

"The present. Never known him so quiet and," she nodded towards the office, "he's been playing ever since you got back."

Ianto followed her gaze and saw, through the glass wall of the office, Jack sitting at his desk. In his hand was the model Spitfire that normally sat on his desk. He was making it swoop through the air as if in flight, with accompanying engine noises. Ianto smiled. "I'd better take him his coffee." He held a tray with two mugs on it. "Have a good evening."

"You too," she replied. "Turn off the CCTV." With a chuckle at his expression, she picked up her bag and went down the steps and out of the cog door.

Jack looked up when Ianto entered the office. "This has been my best birthday for a very, very, very long time," he said sincerely.

"It's not over yet, Jack." Putting the tray down, Ianto took a pack of cards from his pocket. "I thought we'd start with strip poker and move on to hide and seek."

Jack, Spitfire still in hand, bounded from his chair and wrapped his arms round Ianto, landing a smacker of a kiss on his lips. "I love you, Ianto Jones."

* * *

_Hope you liked that, I felt it was time for some Janto fluff. _


	8. Woof Woof

_A tale told from Rhys's point of view ..._

**

* * *

**

**Woof Woof**

I know my wife has a stressful job, chasing aliens all over the city and saving the world from all manner of nasty stuff but working at Harwoods isn't bed of roses either.

Take today, a Thursday. Started out with Dennis and Clive calling in sick, stomach troubles or so they said. Strange how they're always 'sick' the day after the Blues play at home. Do they think I'm stupid or something? Told 'em to get into work sharpish or they wouldn't have a job next week. They turned up half an hour later looking hung-over but at least they dropped the 'sick' claims. Just got them on the road when Euros gets his rig stuck under a low bridge. Silly bugger was using the sat-nav and not bothering to keep his eyes peeled when it took him down a lane the other side of Bridgend. Had to call in the rescue service and deal with the coppers which will mean piles of paperwork. Left Ruth to notify the client, she gets on with them better than I do. Reckoned I'd earnt a cup of coffee and Danish by then.

After lunch (a pie and a pint at the local pub) I spent an hour working out the jobs for tomorrow, matching loads to lorries and drivers, only for head office to ring up with some urgent last minute bookings to be fitted in. Would it have hurt them to phone earlier? Or send an email warning me? 'Cos not, but they don't care. I had to throw away all I'd done and start again, being creative about how to fit thirty loads into twenty lorries with only twelve drivers. In the end, I called Mac at Tyrell's and hired a couple of his boys. Head office won't like it but if they take late bookings without telling me, it's their fault.

By the end of the day I was knackered and ready for a quiet night in. Gwen had promised to be home early so I had to rush to make the supermarket and grab some baguettes and a cheesecake to go with the lasagne. Honest, people talk about a woman not being appreciated, it's not just them! I do all the cooking and cleaning, make sure the bills are paid and do I get a word of thanks? You have got to be kidding! Gwen rolls in at any time of night and barely notices. Food is gobbled down and then, like as not, she's called out again. If I didn't know what she does I'd start thinking she was having an affair. Mind you, given who she works for maybe I'm not so sure. Tonight was just like the rest. Six o'clock came and went and the lasagne started to dry up. She didn't call or answer the messages I left for her. By seven, I'd eaten my dinner and drunk almost a whole bottle of wine when the doorbell rang.

"Yeah?" The intercom was knackered and we couldn't get pictures on it any more so I only had the voice to go on. Not that I had any difficulty recognising it.

"_Rhys, hi. Could you come down, need to talk to you."_

I belted out of the flat and down to the street. Opening the front door I found Jack Harkness leaning nonchalantly against the wall. "What is it? Where's Gwen?"

"Ah, well, it's about that I needed to talk to you."

"What?" I got out between gritted teeth. Inside, I was a quivering wreck. If anything had happened to Gwen I would be devastated. She's the love of my life, the girl I fell in love with the first time I saw her back at university and who I can't live without. That's why I put up with so much crap from her.

"There was an accident –" said Jack in that irritating way of his.

"Is she hurt? Do we have to go to the hospital?" The black SUV was parked at the kerb and I was pulling the door closed, ready to leave, when he spoke.

"Not that kind of accident. More a … Torchwood kind of accident."

"Will you fucking tell me what is going on?" I demanded, pushing him up against the wall. Those lapels on his coat make great handles.

"Ah …" He looked down at his feet.

I looked down too and released Jack. A Welsh springer spaniel stood staring up at us, big expressive brown eyes trained on me. It barked once and came forward, rubbing its nose and then its body against my leg. A very bad feeling crept over me. A Torchwood accident? That could mean anything and this dog was being very friendly.

"Do you mean," I began slowly, watching the dog, "that … that is … Gwen?" I got out at last.

"Got it in one." Jack clapped my shoulder and stepped away. "Bring her down to the Hub in the morning and we'll figure out how to change her back."

"What? Hang on." I grabbed his coat before he could get away. "What am I supposed to do with her? She's … a dog."

"I know, Rhys. Do what you normally do. Feed her, pet her and let her sleep in your bed. Probably best not to shag, might cause complications." He patted me on my shoulder and grinned. "Not that I have to be so careful with Ianto. Gotta go."

He bounded away and jumped into the SUV. In the front passenger seat a sleek black and tan Welsh terrier sat looking at me. There was intelligence in those eyes. Ianto? It wasn't just Gwen who had been turned into a dog, it was Ianto too. And he and Jack were going to …"Ugh!" Thinking of what those two do together when they were both human gives me the heebie-jeebies but when one was a dog? I pushed the thought right out of my mind.

Looking down I saw the dog, no, must call her Gwen, had pushed open the front door and was waiting for me inside. She didn't make a sound as we went up to the flat which was good as we're not allowed pets. Inside our own place, I watched as she explored, sniffing everything and ending up in the kitchen looking hopefully at the lasagne on the counter. From that point on things were much as normal when Gwen gets home. I warmed up the lasagne a bit and she wolfed it down. Okay, she doesn't usually eat off the floor but that was the only thing that was different. Drinking water was a bit different for her too but it meant I could finish the wine. Then we snuggled up on the sofa, her head in my lap and watched TV. I was just deciding I could get used to Gwen as a dog – she wasn't going to be called out to save the world and she didn't argue – when the front door opened.

"God, sweetheart, sorry I'm late. Jack sent me on some wild goose chase and –. What's that doing here? We're not allowed dogs."

I watched open-mouthed as Gwen's keys went in the bowl on the side and she threw her jacket over the back of the sofa. Then I looked at the dog now sitting up. This wasn't Gwen?

"Well?" persisted Gwen in that police way of hers. She never lets anything drop. "Where'd it come from? Got anything to eat, I'm starved." She was in the kitchen now, looking in the oven and fridge.

"But … I don't understand," I spluttered at last. "Jack was here. Brought the dog and said it was you."

"You what?"

"He said there'd been an accident." Realisation was beginning to dawn. I'd been had. Well and truly had. The bastard!

"And you believed him? Honestly, Rhys, you are such a twat!" In an instant she had her mobile out and was calling Jack. On speakerphone, I heard the single ring then Jack's voice.

"_Harkness."_

"Joke's over, Jack. Come and get the mutt."

"_Which one? The dog or Rhys?"_ He was laughing loudly and there was giggle in the background. Ianto was listening in too.

"Right now I don't much care." She ended the call and cut herself a slice of cheesecake, smiling broadly at the joke. "What made you think that was me?"

"I don't know I suppose …" What was I doing? I didn't need to explain, it was all Harkness's fault. "That bastard, I'm going to kill him!"

"Here." She threw me her gun which I fumbled and dropped on the floor. I hate guns and never touched hers, tried to forget it was lurking in her bag wherever we went. I left it where it was.

"Don't be daft. I'm not going to do it."

"Why not? He deserves it." Having finished the cheesecake she was looking round for more food. "Didn't you cook at all tonight?"

"'Cos I did. She had yours." I indicated the dog, now standing beside me looking up with those big, brown eyes that had a lot more love in them than was being shown by my wife. How could I have been fooled?

"Oh brilliant! How about a fry-up, then?" She was back in the fridge getting out bacon, eggs and mushrooms. "For me?"

The big brown eyes trained on me now were human and I remembered how I had felt when I thought she'd been injured. Our lips met and I pressed her close to me, reassuring myself she was really was here and whole. Things might have progressed further if the doorbell hadn't rung.

"That'll be Jack," she said, pulling away. "Get rid of the dog while I change into something … more comfortable."

The sexy look was a promise of things to come and I grabbed the dog and raced down the stairs with her. She licked my face and for a moment I toyed with the idea of keeping her. We'd have to move but that was okay, we were looking already. But then I remembered the hours Gwen and I worked and realised it wouldn't be fair. Jack was leaning against the wall in the same position as last time, this time with a big grin on his stupid face. For a moment I wished I picked up the gun and brought it with me.

"Here." I thrust the dog at him. "Now bugger off." I slammed the door in his still-grinning face and hared up the stairs. My day might just end a lot better than I expected.

* * *

_What do you think? Any good? Don't forget to let me know._


	9. Eggstravaganza

_It's Easter in the Hub ..._

* * *

**Eggstravaganza**

After a quiet day with no sudden alarms, the Torchwood team was ready for home. Gwen, assisted by Ianto who had found all the files, wound up her presentation on the dogs found mutilated in schools and which she had concluded were sacrificial offerings. Her audience – Owen and Toshiko – tried not to cheer. It was warm in the boardroom and the presentation boring, a combination likely to send the most committed Torchwood operative to sleep.

"Any questions?" asked Gwen brightly.

"Nah, you explained it perfectly. Dogs, sacrifices - I get it." Owen pushed back his chair.

For once Toshiko did not feel obliged to massage Gwen's ego. It was Maundy Thursday and Toshiko was spending the Easter weekend with her family in London – if she got away in time to catch the train. "All perfectly clear," she said, following Owen out of the door.

"Well!" Gwen watched them go. "Anyone would think they weren't interested."

Ianto knew this was precisely how the others felt as it was how he felt himself. He mumbled an incoherent comment and gathered together the twenty four files Gwen had thought necessary background for the presentation. It would take a while to file these again and he and Jack had a date lined up for tonight. As he left the boardroom and descended the stairs, he wondered whether to leave the files until the morning.

"Ianto, where's Jack?" called Toshiko. She sounded a lot more lively than she had only moments before.

He shrugged. "Out." Jack had absented himself from the presentation and not said where he was going.

"I'll have to call him. Tell him thanks when you see him tonight."

"Thanks for what?" Ianto dumped the files on his desk and wandered over to the work area.

"For this. It's gorgeous." She held up a large boxed Easter egg from a luxury chocolatier in the city.

"Bloke's bonkers," put in Owen.

"If you don't want yours, I'll have it."

"Didn't say that. I'll keep it." Owen tucked his own egg under his arm. "You ready? Gonna miss your train if you don't come now." He was giving Toshiko a lift to the station.

At her desk, Gwen was cooing over her own egg. "This is so good of him. I feel awful I didn't get him one."

"Bring in some hot cross buns tomorrow," suggested Ianto. He had turned to survey his own desk – no large box containing an egg there.

Owen and Toshiko left in a flurry of 'goodnights' and Gwen followed a moment or two later, carefully carrying her egg. She stopped at the foot of the steps and regarded Ianto who was standing in the middle of the Hub. "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow then. And I'll bring some buns." With a wave, she was through the cog door and gone.

Left alone, Ianto fingered his mobile and considered ringing Jack but decided not to. They were due to meet at seven at the restaurant, maybe that was when he would be getting his egg. Or perhaps not. Back at his desk, he tidied up but the pile of files mocked and annoyed him; he couldn't leave them until the morning. Picking them up, he went down to the archives. He whistled as he walked the familiar corridors, looking forward to a pleasant evening. Turning into the registry, he snapped on the light and stopped dead. In the middle of his desk was a very large gold box, at least three feet square, with a big red bow tied around it. He went forward cautiously and saw it was also from the chocolatier. A label attached to the ribbon read '_Behind you'_.

Ianto whirled round, his mouth fell open in surprise then he laughed. He continued laughing, a gorgeous belly laugh that few had heard from the Welshman in the last couple of years. The sound echoed round the room and down the corridors and almost filled the entire Hub. Finally, Ianto wiped his streaming eyes and brought himself under control. "You twat." He turned back to the desk and the unopened box.

"Like it?" Warm breath against Ianto's neck and arms snaking round his middle did not surprise him.

"Haven't opened it yet." Refusing to be hurried, Ianto loosened the bow and lifted the lid.

"You said you liked dark chocolate." Jack peered over Ianto's shoulder at the handmade egg - a spray of red sugar roses the only decoration - that lay nestled in red tissue paper.

"I do. It's lovely, thank you." He turned in Jack's arms and they kissed long and deep. "That tickles," he said with a chuckle.

"Whiskers do that." He kissed Ianto again.

"Why are you wearing that get up?" He stroked the long white ears standing upright on his boss's head.

"I'm the Easter bunny."

"A naked one?"

"I'm not naked." Jack stepped back to prove it. "Though I was planning on taking this off." He motioned to the white furry jockstrap, his only piece of clothing.

"Not yet." Ianto pulled Jack close again and ran his hands down Jack's naked chest, round his waist and then up his back. "I want to play with my Easter bunny first."

"You say the nicest things. Happy Easter, Jones Ianto Jones."

"Happy Easter, Jack."

* * *

_All comments welcome. And Happy Easter to you all!_


	10. The Bteko

_Not totally happy with the middle passage of this story, but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless._

* * *

**The Bteko**

The quiet of the Hub was shattered by a loud blast of dissonant sound emanating from the work area. Jack and Gwen hastened out of the glass-walled boardroom to look down on the lower levels, spotting Owen haring out of the medical bay towards Toshiko who was seated at her desk. The noise continued, a martial undertone becoming clear, echoing off the concrete walls sufficiently loudly to bring Ianto up from the archives at a run.

"Sorry, sorry," Toshiko called, frantically hitting her keyboard.

Her voice was barely heard above the ear-piercing noise. Her colleagues, fingers in their ears, made for her desk with the exception of Ianto who stopped at an equipment box and took out five pairs of ear defenders which he distributed quickly, himself putting a pair on Toshiko whose hands were still dancing over the keyboard. The noise continued for several minutes despite her efforts and Jack's use of his wrist strap controls. When they were thinking it would never end, the noise stopped as suddenly as it had begun leaving the Torchwood team stunned by the silence.

"Bloody hell, Tosh," said Owen, removing the defenders and poking at an ear. "What was that?" She did not reply; still wearing the defenders she had not heard him. Ianto, realising this, reached across and removed them.

"Huh? Thanks, Ianto," she said distractedly, concentrating on her monitors.

"Tosh, what happened?" asked Jack.

"One minute." She made a few adjustments using mouse and keyboard and then looked round at her colleagues. "Sorry, I didn't know that would happen. It's the obelisk we found at Barry, it's imprinted with records. I thought they were all videos but seems some are audio." She looked across at the obelisk itself, a stone pillar standing four feet tall and two feet square, next to the curved outer wall of the Hub.

"You've got somewhere with that?" asked Gwen, her interest piqued. She and Jack had retrieved it from a local trader who in turn had found it amongst a mass of flotsam on Barry's beach. "What is it?"

"Not sure yet." Toshiko looked round again. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to drag you away from what you were doing."

"No problem," said Ianto with a smile. "It's almost coffee time anyway. You all want one?" When there were murmured agreements and nods, Ianto went off to the machine.

"Sounds like you've seen some of these video records then," said Jack, perching on the edge of Owen's desk. "What are they?"

Toshiko smiled. "It's like a home movie. There are some large and some small aliens playing games. Here, I'll show you."

She activated her central monitor and an image appeared. Against a vivid green background which resolved itself into an alien sky, three large round aliens were poking sticks into four smaller ones to their apparent amusement and delight. There was no sound, but the bearing of all the aliens bore out Toshiko's assessment of this being a game.

"That's so cute." Gwen pulled over Owen's vacant chair and sat beside Toshiko, staring at the screen. "Oh look at that!" One of the smaller aliens had lost its footing – they had small knobbly legs – and fell over, rolling into one of the larger ones.

"Looks bloody dangerous to me," commented Owen. "Those sticks could have an eye out."

"They haven't got any eyes." Gwen scowled at him then turned back to the screen. "Any more?"

"Uh-huh. In this one," she paused as she used her mouse to click through various icons, "they're climbing." The image on the screen changed to show the smaller aliens climbing over the larger ones and then up a sheer cliff face using a strange rocking motion. "I have no idea why they don't fall."

Various suggestions were made as the whole team stood and sat around the desk watching the images while drinking coffee. The aliens were completely unknown – there were no matches in the database – and even Jack had never come across anything like them in all his wanderings. Owen was the first to move away, bored with just the two snatches of video to watch, returning to the medical bay. Not long after, Ianto went back to the archives.

"That sound you had doesn't seem to go with the pictures," ventured Gwen, still entranced.

"I didn't think so either," replied Toshiko.

Jack pushed himself off Owen's desk. "Could go with one of the other videos. How many are there?"

"There are forty two records. Don't know how many are video and how many audio." She looked up at him. "Want me to carry on or shall I –"

"Yes!" exclaimed Gwen, jerking upright. "We're always looking at crap, about time we got to look at something good."

With a smile, Jack said, "There's nothing else urgent to be done. Don't see why you can't finish now you've got this far."

"Thanks." Toshiko was pleased and smiled up at her boss gratefully.

"I'll help Tosh," said Gwen. She and Jack had been analysing the police call out statistics for unusual patterns, a routine and boring task when compared to the chance to watch a brand new race at play.

He shrugged. "All right." Jack ambled off, deciding to visit Ianto in the archives while everyone else was occupied.

-ooOoo-

Three hours later another sound echoed round the Hub from Toshiko's desk. Owen, in the medical bay preparing a specimen for analysis, heard quiet snuffling and sobs and looked up. Jack and Gwen were on their way back from an abortive Weevil sighting and Ianto was upstairs waiting for food so it could only be Toshiko crying. He climbed the steps out of the bay and, sure enough, she was the source of the sound.

He moved to her side. "Tosh, what is it?" he asked quietly. He put a hand on her shoulder, hating to hear anyone crying so helplessly.

"Oh, Owen! They're all dead."

"Who? Jack and Gwen?" he asked, puzzled.

"No. The aliens." Her face crumpled and she wept noisily. Without hesitation, he took her in his arms and held her close, rocking her slightly.

The cog door rolled back and the alarms went off as Ianto walked through, box of food in his arms, followed by Jack and Gwen. All three were laughing until they spotted their colleagues.

"What have you done to her, Owen?" demanded Gwen, storming up the steps to the raised work area. "Tosh, sweetheart, what is it?"

"Me? I haven't done anything!" Owen continued to hold Toshiko, thwarting Gwen's attempts to push him away.

"What's up, Tosh?" asked Jack. He glanced at the monitors before her where the single image showed a land devastated and laid to waste with buildings razed to the ground.

"They're all dead," she said, pulling away from Owen and dabbing at her eyes. She accepted the tissues Ianto offered and blew her nose. "All those aliens are dead."

"What! Those happy round ones?" exclaimed Gwen.

"Is that all?" Jack had seen too many races annihilated by civil war or stronger neighbours to be moved by yet another.

"How can you be so callous?" Gwen had her arm round Toshiko who was now wiping her eyes. "Tosh, tell us."

"I got into all the records. Put them in order." Toshiko looked across at the obelisk. "They made it, as a memorial to their world."

"Not unusual." Still unmoved, Jack stood with arms crossed defiantly.

Disgusted with his boss's attitude, Ianto tried to change the mood. "The curry's getting cold. Let's eat."

"Give me a sec, just got to put some stuff in the fridge." Owen walked off to the medical bay where he secured his specimen.

"Set it up in the boardroom, Ianto," said Jack. Aware of the dirty looks he was getting from Ianto and Gwen, Jack tried to make amends. "Rig up the records, Tosh. We can watch it while we eat."

Ten minutes later the team was in the boardroom, food cartons opened and most of their contents on plates. Toshiko handed the plasma screen remote to Jack. "Press play and the records will come up in order. I won't stay." She picked up her plate and bottle of beer and quietly left the room.

"Maybe I should go with her," said Ianto, watching Toshiko's retreating back through the glass wall. Her shoulders were slumped and she was moving slowly, still affected by what she had seen.

"Nah, stay and watch," muttered Owen. "Come on, Jack, fire it up."

"You can be so unfeeling," protested Gwen. She too looked after Toshiko but decided to stay, wanting to see the records.

"Here goes," said Jack, activating the slideshow.

The first five records (which included the two the team had viewed before) showed the large and small aliens engaged in various activities. An alien voice provided a commentary which Toshiko had partly translated – it had similarities with one they had already deciphered – and subtitles appeared at the bottom of the screen. The watchers learnt the aliens called themselves Bteko and lived a rural existence raising crops. It was an idyllic life in which a small group of adults and children worked side by side in the fields and enjoyed leisure time together. Record six gave the first hint of what was to come. The weather, which had been settled and ordered, became unpredictable and crops failed. The translation fragmented at this point but the pictures showed clearly how the Bteko's life changed for the worse as food became scarce and everyone had to work harder and harder to grow enough to survive. Yet even now they had a few isolated moments of fun. By record nine that had changed. The Bteko featured in the videos (an extended family of over thirty individuals the Torchwood team could now differentiate from one another) suffered attacks by external raiding parties, families who had been less successful or merely greedy, who trashed all they could and left fear and confusion in their wake.

The mood around the boardroom table grew more serious as the records continued to play. Ianto stopped eating, feeling guilty for having food when the Bteko had so little.

The weather improved in record eleven and some crops were planted but not as many as before. Life did not return to how it had been. The family had lost two adult members to the raiders and had to mount a guard over their meagre supplies as the raids continued. In record thirteen a child was snatched away and the family sent out a search party: it and the child were never seen again. By now only six male adults remained and they were unable to protect the crops. Three women and four children were lost to raids and privation and, in record nineteen, the surviving thirteen adults and seven children were forced off the land by stronger neighbours, taking with them only a camera and the video records of their life.

None of the Torchwood team was eating now. All were affected by the scenes being played out before them and the commentary which conveyed the hopelessness and despair of the Bteko. Gwen sniffed and pulled a tissue from her pocket to wipe her eyes.

Record twenty gave the first indication of the wider Bteko world. The family travelled from their rural home to a traditional meeting place where they joined other refugees searching for shelter and food. A succession of images showed the rise of an authoritarian government and, after a short while, one man emerged as the sole leader. This despot forced the refugees, including the family, to grow food taking more than half for Government forces. Rumours of outside forces preparing to attack kept the populace subdued and troops marching through the refugee encampment were a fearsome sight, the rotund Bteko looking sinister in dark uniforms. The well-fed and self-assured troops drew eager recruits including from the family; seven of the younger adults and older children slipped away to join up. The remains of the family, nine adults and four young children, battled to stay together but they were unable to secure sufficient food and the weakest died. Others were lost to casual raids by Government troops, who feared the more numerous refugees, and smashed up the shanty towns and randomly killed anyone sheltering there. Even Jack winced when a child was sliced in two as it tried to run away.

When only three adults and one child was left, the family tried to get away but it was too late. Forcefields erected around the shanty town where they sheltered kept them in. Now unable to keep any of the food they grew, the inhabitants of the shanty turned on themselves and record twenty eight showed acts of cannibalism. The small family refused to join in these excesses, surviving on little more than hope. When all seemed lost, a spontaneous uprising by the oppressed refugees unseated the despotic leader and defeated his forces but in the resulting chaos power plants were blown up and a chain reaction started that devastated half the planet.

The world was dying.

The last two records catalogued the final acts of a group of the doomed survivors. They retreated to a safe place and resolved to leave a record of the history and destruction of the Bteko as a warning to other races. Several obelisks were made, each containing information about the Bteko. The original family, now reduced to four members, produced their valuable family records and these were embedded in the final obelisk, the only visual record of the race.

No one spoke in the boardroom: tears ran down Gwen's face; Owen stared into space; Ianto gulped and blinked back threatening tears; Jack sighed heavily and turned off the plasma screen.

"The planet must have blown and the obelisks sent into space."

"It's so sad," sniffed Gwen. She brought her fist down on the table making the plates, cutlery and food cartons rattle and shake and her team-mates jump. "More bloody crap!" With that, she shoved her chair back and stormed from the room.

"She's got a point," said Owen. "Are there any happy races out there?"

"A lot. Just don't get to see them here," admitted Jack. He retrieved a fork and picked at the cold curry.

"Just our bleeding luck." Owen stood up and ambled out of the room.

Jack looked across at Ianto. "You're quiet."

"I've got an idea, not sure you'll like it." The Welshman eyed his boss steadily.

"Try me."

Ten minutes later, Jack and Ianto joined the rest of the team in the work area. Gwen was sitting on the couch facing Toshiko who had swivelled round in her chair. Owen leant against the wall, arms crossed. All three looked miserable.

"Listen up, kids, Ianto's got a proposition," said Jack, perching on Owen's desk. "And not that kind!"

Ianto ignored the innuendo and Jack. "The Bteko made the obelisk as a warning to others and so their race wouldn't be forgotten. Luckily we found it."

"Why's that lucky?" asked Owen.

"No one but Tosh would have been able to access the records and translate the commentary. I think we should do what the Bteko wanted." He paused and looked round at them all. "If we create copies of the records and send them into space, other races will hear the story too. It'll be like sending messages in bottles. We won't know where they end up but there's a chance someone will find them and learn from them."

Toshiko smiled. "That's a brilliant idea, Ianto. I can copy the records, no problem, but how do we get them into space? Going to use the Rift?" She turned back to her desk, hands reaching for the keyboard.

"No, that would only take them to one place," said Jack, pleased to see his team respond so positively. "Like Ianto says, we need to send them all over and there's some stuff in the archives we can use."

The team got to work. Toshiko created a hundred copies of the Bteko records on silicon chips and Owen and Gwen took these and carefully inserted them into golf ball-sized carriers. These carriers were sealed and loaded into a Seutofi missile from which the warhead had been removed. Jack and Ianto worked on the missile launcher, programming it to send the missile through Earth's atmosphere to release its cargo in space. The missile was camouflaged to prevent UNIT, NASA and other bodies seeing it.

That night the team travelled to a lonely hillside deep in the Welsh countryside where they assembled the launcher, loaded the missile and set it for a delayed launch. They retreated a safe distance, Ianto monitoring the count down with his stopwatch.

"Five, four, three, two, one, zero," he said. He looked up from the stopwatch to see a streak of green light shoot up into the dark sky.

"Safe journey," muttered Gwen, eyes glued to the fading light.

"Good luck," said Toshiko softly.

Jack waited until the night was dark once more, all trace of the missile gone, and retrieved the launcher. "Time we got back to work."

* * *

_Hope you liked it - Jay._


	11. Trying Something New

**Trying Something New**

It wasn't often that Ianto Jones had someone in the cells that he could talk to, well, not one that could understand and reply. Chatting to Weevils suited Owen but Ianto liked more than grunts and growls as the other half of the conversation. Alone in the Hub – everyone else was out on business of one sort or the other - Ianto made two coffees and took them down to cell block B.

"I made you a drink," he said, standing before the left hand cell of three. He slipped it through the slot.

"Thanks to you. Smell good." The lanky occupant of the cell took up the mug with many appreciative noises, sniffing it noisily. "Good stuff. 'Nilla." He had been in the cells just over a day and already knew how to differentiate between the blends.

"You said you liked it." Ianto pulled over a chair and sat facing the cell. "Jack'll be back soon and I'll try to get him to make a decision."

"I wait. You feed Tipoe well."

As he sipped his drink, Ianto studied Tipoe. Over six feet tall with long thin limbs covered by multi-coloured, layered clothing, he had passed as a street entertainer for several days. He had cropped up in police reports as being in the vicinity of several accidents but never as the cause of them. Torchwood became aware of him when Toshiko discovered alien energy trails across the city, linked him to the reports then tracked him down. The team had had no trouble securing him and he had been a co-operative inmate for the past thirty six hours. He understood English but did not speak it fluently. Owen's medical tests, Toshiko's analyses and Jack's chats had failed, so far, to classify him. Tipoe did not appear dangerous but Jack was reluctant to release such an unknown quantity.

"If you tell us more about how you got here and why, it'll help Jack make up his mind." There were no residual traces of Rift energy in Tipoe's body which there should have been.

Tipoe shrugged. "No know. Alone. Change, fit in."

This was what he had told them before. "You found the clothes and wandered the city."

"No find. Change into." Tipoe flapped his arm up and down. "Like you."

"I don't understand."

Tipoe spoke volubly in his own language for several minutes then slumped down. He did not know how to explain in English, there were no words. He liked Ianto, who had treated him well, did not dislike the rest of the Torchwood team, and was quite happy to tell them what they wanted to know if only he had the words. "Show?" he ventured almost shyly.

"You can show me what you mean?" queried Ianto slowly, putting down his empty mug. He felt he was getting close to an answer.

"Yes." Tipoe sprang up and came to the door of the cell. "See." He held up one long-fingered hand, waggling the fingers. A blue light suffused the hand and a moment later was gone.

"What the heck!" Ianto was at the door, staring at the hand that was no longer the hand. Five perfect daffodils grew out of the wrist. "How did you do that?"

Tipoe shrugged again. "Tipoe do. Job." The light returned and in a moment the hand was back. "Do Ianto?"

Ianto stepped back quickly. "I don't want daffs for fingers, thanks very much."

"Not all do. Tipoe mend." He pointed to a scar on the back of Ianto's hand, a reminder of an encounter with a Weevil.

"You're a healer?" The alien had been reported hanging around accidents, had he been trying to help the victims?

"No, changer." A spurt of more alien language followed as Tipoe became frustrated at not being able to explain. "Show." He pointed to his hair, long and brown. After a short burst of the blue light it was short, curly and black. "Change."

Ianto pulled up the chair and began to question Tipoe, a plan forming at the back of his mind. A wild plan but one that could change his life.

-ooOoo-

Jack returned alone to the Hub. It was quiet and he had sent the others home early determined to have a night with Ianto. Maybe they could try the new Indian restaurant and then take in a movie, something normal for once. He was smiling as he walked through the cog door, imagining an evening dedicated to relaxation and pleasure. First thing was to get Ianto out of his suit. The guy looked gorgeous in them but tight jeans and a hoodie gave him an edge of danger that Jack loved.

"On your own, Jack?" said Ianto. He came out the office, folders in hand.

"Yeah, sent the others home so we could –" He stared. "What have you done?"

"Like it?"

Jack shrugged out of his greatcoat, flinging it onto the couch, never taking his gaze from Ianto. "I don't know." He circled the younger man and then put out a hand to feel the longish blond curls. "It's different."

"You don't like it." Ianto shrugged. "That's okay, I'll try ginger."

"Whoa! Why are you suddenly into dying your hair?"

"I didn't dye it. I changed my hair colour. All my hair. I'm now a natural blond." He smiled nervously. "Wanna see?" He flicked his tie over his shoulder and undid his shirt showing a chest liberally covered in blond hair.

Jack looked at Ianto through narrowed eyes. "What's going on?" he asked seriously.

"Tipoe did it. He's a … manipulator of genes. He can change himself into anything – animal, vegetable and mineral. And he can do it for us too. That's why he was around those accidents, he wanted to help heal the victims." Ianto spoke quickly, standing close to Jack. "This was a trial, to prove he could do it."

Refusing to respond to Ianto's enthusiasm, Jack said, "Must have removed your common sense too. What possessed you, Ianto? Get into the medical bay now. I'm calling in Owen."

"There's no need, Jack." Ianto put a hand on Jack's arm, stopping him getting to his mobile. "I'm fine, I'm just a blond!" This was going badly. Ianto had not expected this reaction, anticipating Jack's sense of fun and experimentation to kick in first and then for him to see the serious use they could make of Tipoe's ability.

"Acting like one too." Jack shook his arm free.

"Hey, I did this for you!"

"Oh yeah? When did I say I wanted you blond?"

"Not that. If he can change genes he can change yours, make you mortal again!"

Jack stood stock still. "What did you say?"

The sound of Ianto swallowing was loud in the ensuing silence. Jack was staring at him with such intensity he couldn't find any words; Jack was frightening when in this mood. It brought back that awful time after Lisa had run amok in the Hub and Jack had held a gun to Ianto's head. He had survived that and the two men had forged a close, very close, relationship as a result. Ianto hung onto that thought as Jack's gaze bored into his very soul.

"I know how much you want to … be like everyone else," he began haltingly. "This could be a way of doing that."

"You think some raggedy alien with a fairground talent for manipulating genes can undo changes made by the time matrix? You're mad."

"I'm just trying to help!"

Jack closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Of course that was all Ianto was doing, seizing on a chance, any chance, that came his way to help them have a normal relationship. "I know." He smiled wryly. "It won't work, Ianto, but … thanks for the thought."

"How do you know it won't work, Jack? At least talk to Tipoe."

Jack gave in to Ianto's pleas and they descended to the cells. As predicted, Tipoe was unable to make any permanent change to Jack's unique condition - he would remain immortal for the time being. Ianto was dejected as his hopes were dashed and so Jack decided to cheer him up.

-ooOoo-

The club was pleasantly full for a weekday night and a mellow Owen – he was on his third vodka - looked round for a companion to while away a few hours. All the available talent was already hooked up or in gangs. He was about to move on when he spotted a familiar lanky figure disappearing up the stairs. "Fuck," he murmured under his breath. Downing his drink, he wove through the crowd and took the stairs two at a time. A quick scan and he spotted his quarry sitting at a table with two women, one blonde and the other brunette and both lookers.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, standing over the trio. "Up, I'm taking you back."

"What's your problem?" asked the brunette, her American accent low and seductive.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Owen turned his attention back to Tipoe. "I said, up."

"I suppose you'd try and tell us he's an alien." The blonde smiled up at Owen, a laugh in her Welsh-accented words.

Realising he was attracting the attention of the neighbouring tables, Owen pulled over a chair and sat down. "What did you say?"

"Lots of aliens in Cardiff, so I've heard."

"And who's been telling you that?" Owen was growing more and more concerned. Tipoe was walking round free and these two women knew more than was good for them. Somehow he was going to have to get all three back to the Hub.

"Umm, I think his name was Captain Jack. Tall guy, quite a hunk. Great in bed, best I've ever had." The blonde smiled at the brunette.

"I knew his big mouth would get us into trouble." Owen dug in a pocket for his mobile.

"How about buying us a drink, handsome?" The brunette leaned forward showing an expanse of impressive cleavage and placed an arm on Owen's shoulders her mouth closing in on his ear which she licked. "Then we'll tell you all we know about the aliens."

Deciding it was better to keep them occupied, Owen gestured to a waiter. They placed their order: vodka for Owen and Tipoe, scotch on the rocks for the brunette and martini for the blonde. When the waiter had gone, Owen pressed speed dial on his mobile. He needed help getting these three back to the Hub and also wanted to check Jack and Ianto were okay. The phone rang.

"Oh." The brunette reached into her small shoulder bag and pulled out a vibrating mobile. "I wonder who this can be." She pressed the button to accept the call. "Hello."

Owen heard her voice in stereo and grabbed the phone. It was one of theirs, specially adapted with various items of alien technology. "What have you done with Jack?" he asked menacingly.

The brunette grinned widely showing perfect, gleaming white teeth. "I fancied a change, Owen, and our good friend Tipoe here provided the means. For one night only I am Zaza." She looked up as the waiter returned. "Thanks, honey," she said.

Owen stared at her … him? … and saw a shadow of the man he knew under the female features. The cheekbones and trademark grin were still there. He looked across at the blonde who raised on eyebrow. The likeness here was unmistakable. "Ianto?" he ventured.

"Bella," she said, raising her martini in salute. "Cheers."

"Bella for beauty because she is gorgeous." Zaza spoke huskily and leant across Tipoe, who was sitting between them, to kiss Bella lightly on the lips.

"Oh … my … God." Owen downed his vodka in one and gestured to the waiter for another.

In the next five minutes Owen got the gist of what had happened and of Tipoe's role in the transformation. He was incandescent and berated his colleagues for the risks they were taking. Zaza dismissed these but did agree that both 'women' would meet him in the Hub at seven the following morning so he could supervise the return to their normal selves.

"But until then, Dr Harper," she said, "I mean to have some fun. Bella, your place right now. I can't wait any longer." They stood gracefully. "Owen, you see Tipoe back to base," was Zaza's parting shot as the two departed, Bella wobbling on her ridiculously high heels.

"Tipoe like," said the alien placidly. "More?" He held out his glass.

-ooOoo-

Ianto fed the Weevils and listened to their grunts and growls, missing the chance for a decent conversation. Tipoe was in one of the Torchwood hostels beginning his supervised transition into city life; Jack had decided he was not dangerous. The experiment the night before had shown his skills were controllable – Bella had reverted to Ianto on schedule – and Owen, after getting over the shock, had seen genuine medical possibilities. The only downside, in Ianto's eyes, was that Tipoe's skills were not strong enough to help Jack. Even the transformation to Zaza had worn off hours earlier than Ianto's, but not before the two 'women' had spent a very enjoyable time exploring their new bodies. It was sad that Jack remained immortal but that added to his mystique.

With a contented smile on his face, Ianto left the cells and headed up to the office where Jack was waiting for him. The others should have left by now and it was time for play. They hadn't had a decent game of naked hide and seek for ages …

* * *

_I decided to let you imagine what the 'women' got up to!_


	12. Up the Pole

**Up the Pole**

The Barn Club had been open a while, long enough for the rough edges to emerge once again from under the initial glitzy paint job and for management to have changed for the worse. It was no longer the hottest spot in town and in a few months would slip into the tawdry before quietly closing. Still, under the flattering lights the place looked okay for now and could still pull in a crowd and persuade it to part with money. Cheap drink and quasi-exotic dancing by scantily-clad young women and men were the attractions that ensured that the youth of Cardiff – and some whose youth was a thing of the past – made the place profitable enough to keep open.

Weaving through the closely packed tables, over-sized tray held at shoulder height, Ianto Jones kept one eye on the bar while fending off groping hands. All the waiters and waitresses were expected to put up with plenty of physical contact from the customers without complaint and without much other compensation; the pay was minimum rate and the tips small. With an expert swerve of the hips, Ianto avoided a giggling girl's lunge for his groin and made the relative safety of the bar.

"Four lagers, eight vodka shots," he said, placing the tray down ready for the order.

"Coming up, gorgeous," said Jack Harkness, grinning at the young Welshman. His hands were already busy placing shot glasses on the tray and reaching for the bottle of vodka.

"My arse is black and blue all over." Ianto rearranged the glasses into a neat pattern, couldn't help himself.

"Don't worry, I'll kiss it better later." The vodka slopped into the glasses.

"You're making a mess," complained Ianto who hated being doused in spare alcohol when manoeuvring the tray. He dabbed at the spillage with a paper napkin.

"Just doing my job." Jack was at the lager tap, filling the four chilled glasses with the amber liquid. "Any sign?"

"No. I'll keep looking." He lifted the full tray and balanced it on the palm of his right hand. "If he doesn't show tonight, can we go back to hunting Weevils?" he asked plaintively.

Jack laughed, leaning across the bar to stroke the other man's cheek. Poor Ianto, he did not like this undercover jaunt even though he was the perfect waiter and received by far the largest tips - and the most propositions – of all the waiting staff. "I'll see. Now, go."

Ianto went off into the crowd and Jack turned to a waitress who gave him her order. As he got the drinks the music changed and the small central dais was bathed in a steady pink glowing light from a spot high above. It was show time. Sooner than other bars and clubs in the city, this one had realised that near-naked men drew in almost as many customers as their female colleagues. They now offered an equal opportunity policy for all their performances; a hit with hen parties and stag nights alike as well as the gay scene. On this occasion the young man in tight shorts, vest top and a Stetson took the left hand pole for his gyrations while the woman in a sequinned bikini top and rah-rah skirt took the right. In a break between orders, while wiping down the bar, Jack watched the pair of 'dancers' begin the routine. The movements were lithe and supple and vaguely arousing but Jack still could not understand their appeal. Raised in a much more permissive era it all seemed contrived and false, not helped by the expressions on the faces of the dancers: boredom for the man and a fixed grin for the woman.

"We have a problem."

Jack dragged his gaze away and looked round on hearing this urgent hiss and saw Ianto was back. "What?"

"See who's just come in?" Ianto gazed in the direction of the entrance, more brightly lit than the rest of the place, where three thirty-something men stood surveying the scene.

"Damn." Jack did not need this complication. "Get him on one of your tables and make sure he doesn't look at the dancing until you've warned him."

"Oh no." Ianto shifted his gaze to the dais. "Why's she on now?" He shot off and herded the group to a round table four rows back from the dais, pulling a surprised Rhys Williams aside.

"Ianto!" Rhys looked round warily, eyeing the other waiters and waitresses and the bar staff who were barely visible in the dim light. He started when Jack waved at him from the bar.

"We're working, Rhys," explained Ianto quickly. "You have to go along with this. Okay?"

"What are you talking about?" Rhys was not really listening, looking round at the waitresses anxiously. He so regretted coming to this place. It had been Banana's daft idea and now Gwen was going to find out. His eyes scanned the place restlessly. Where was she? How was he going to explain his presence?

Ianto was about to reply when his arm was grabbed. Turning, he scowled down at Banana Boat. "What?"

"Let's be having some drinks, mate. Beer and shots, boys?" he asked his companions at the table who agreed nosily. "Got that? Three beers and six tequila shots."

"Coming up." He looked pointedly at Rhys who had sat down making it impossible to talk to him privately any more.

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Banana, staring at the dais. "That's bloody Gwen!"

Rhys' head shot round and his eyes widened at the same time as his mouth dropped open. With her head tilted back and hair hanging loose, the familiar features of Gwen Williams were unmistakable. As were all the other familiar parts of her anatomy. The costume barely covered her and her current pose was provocative in the extreme. Rhys felt himself growing warm, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal; he never could resist Gwen's physical attractions. One quiet corner of his brain was also telling him that perhaps she had more explaining to do than he did.

Ianto quickly thought on his feet. "Happy anniversary, Mr Williams, your wife explained this is a special day for you both. First round on the house." He made for the bar only to be stopped partway by a group of pissed girls demanding refills. With two orders – luckily nearly everyone drank the same thing – he mechanically avoided groping hands and reached the bar.

"You tell him?" asked Jack, finishing one order and moving across to stand before Ianto.

"Just about." He risked a glance back at the table and saw Banana Boat and the other guys clearly ribbing Rhys who looked stunned but with a smug smile on his face. "Let's hope he goes along with it." He sighed heavily. "Three beers and six shots of tequila for them. And Malibu highballs for five."

Automatically filling the orders, Jack queried. "What did you tell him?"

"That it's a surprise for their anniversary." Ianto sagged against the bar, tired from being on his feet all day chasing after the Rift and waiting tables for the past three hours.

"It's not their anniversary." The beers were on the tray. "That's in the summer."

"I had to say something!" Ianto glared at his boss, annoyed that he was enjoying this so much and that he was so efficient behind the bar. Was there nothing he couldn't do? But most of all Ianto was annoyed that they were spending their nights stuck in this rundown club chasing aliens when they could have been relaxing.

The shots were now also on the tray. For once sensitive to Ianto's frame of mind, Jack replied levelly, "And as always, you said just the right thing. Take those and come back for the Malibus. You'll never get them all on the tray." He smiled encouragingly. "You're doing a fabulous job."

"Huh. What about Gwen?" Ianto hoisted the heavy tray up to shoulder height.

"I'll get a message to her when she comes off. We may need to break out the Retcon."

Jack busied himself with the Malibus and was on another order when Ianto returned so they didn't have a chance to chat. Ten minutes later, Jack took a break and ducked into the back rooms, striding along the corridor to the dressing rooms. There were two, both small and grotty, with a bathroom between. He rapped on the door of the girls' room and opened the door.

"Hi, you gorgeous beauties. I hope no one's decent in here!" He beamed as he glanced round at the five women in various states of undress. "Ah, Gwen, boss wants a word."

"You gonna stay here, love? Let me see to your needs." Sylvie reached out a hand and stroked his groin.

"I'll take a rain check on that," he replied with a laugh making no move to remove her hand. He stepped aside as Gwen, a silky robe around her, eased out of the room then closed the door behind them both.

"Is he here?" Gwen was still in her stage makeup which she had applied liberally. That and the robe made the Glock she pulled from under the robe totally incongruous.

"Yes and no." Jack pulled her into an alcove at the end of the corridor where they could talk undisturbed.

"Which?"

"Kenny's not shown but your dear hubby has." He watched her reaction, interested to see what it would be. The shock changed to embarrassment before settling on indignation.

"What's he doing in this dump? More to the point, why's he watching exotic dancers? Christ, did he see me?"

"He did. Ianto told him and his friends it was an anniversary surprise from you." He shrugged. "Best he could think of on the spur of the moment."

"It's not our anniversary, that's in -"

"We know when it is! Gwen, just make something up. You women always have some important date to trip up us poor forgetful guys. The anniversary of your first meeting? First shag? First row?" He took her arm and piloted her up the corridor. "Go make nice. We can Retcon them all later if you want."

"No! Not Rhys anyway, he's already had one dose and I don't want him to have another." She was thinking fast, trying to come up with a suitable excuse for this 'anniversary'.

"He has?" Jack halted her. "When?" She had made enough fuss about not giving it to him after the space whale; when had he taken it?

Realising her mistake, she muttered, "Ages ago. You want me to do my next stint?" She was due back on stage in twenty minutes.

"Yes. But put that away." He nodded to the Glock in her hand. "And we'll talk again about your private use of Retcon. It's not for recreational purposes."

They had reached the bar and she wended her way through the tables to Rhys. Jack returned to his place behind the bar and was busy immediately, fixing three orders while keeping an eye on Gwen and Rhys as well as on the entrance. Kenny, a galactic bounty hunter, was reported to be an habitué of the bar but so far had been conspicuous by his absence.

"You see something?" asked Ianto standing in front of him.

"No, just hoping. You're right, this is getting boring. If we don't see him tonight we'll wrap it up."

"Thank you. My feet are killing me."

Jack smiled warmly. "I'll give you a foot rub later."

"As well as kissing my arse?" He raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Can't wait. Five more Malibus." As Jack turned to get the glasses, Ianto scanned the crowd. Kenny was humanoid but under the Klamido spotlight Jack had installed a few days ago he would glow sufficiently for their special contact lenses to pick him up. Ianto saw Gwen stand and kiss Rhys before making her way to the back rooms; she must be on again soon. One final glance and … A glowing man stood by the entrance. "Jack, he's here."

Jack spun round, picked up where Ianto was looking and spotted Kenny too. "We've got him. Let him get further into the club then we can grab him." When Gwen looked their way, he gestured to Kenny, waiting until he was sure she had also spotted him. "Good, he's walking to a table." Suddenly Kenny glanced towards the bar and his demeanour changed; he knew Jack Harkness well. "Go!"

Within an hour the Barn Club had been trashed. Tables lay on their sides or in pieces alongside broken chairs and glasses. Patrons and staff were gathered in the one relatively unscathed section, some in shock but most on a high from the unexpected excitement. The half dozen police officers had broken up the fight and were starting to take statements but without the CCTV tapes – inexplicably missing – they held out little hope of discovering the root cause; the patrons were drunk and the people who could have told them what had happened had already left.

Daf and Banana Boat were sleeping on the back seat of Gwen's car as she drove through the early morning streets to their homes. Both had been Retconned and would remember nothing. Rhys, in the front seat, had opted to retain his memories and was wondering where he could install a pole in the flat; he wanted to encourage his wife's new talent. Across the city, Kenny was inside a cell in the Torchwood Hub rueing his decision to return to the club on his last night in Cardiff. Above him, in the bunker under the office, Ianto lay face down on the narrow bunk and … purred as closely as any human could. His clothes were strewn over the small room, pulled off by an impatient Jack who had massaged Ianto's sore feet and was now systematically kissing all the bruises on his pert arse.

* * *

_Thought I'd leave you with that scene to imagine ..._


	13. Spirit in a Bottle

**Spirit in a Bottle**

The pixzip scampered along using all five of her legs to keep ahead of the customer, throwing up mini dust clouds that exploded around her bulbous nether regions. Normally she would have kept up a constant stream of sales patter but he had reacted violently – a hand round her throat which had left her gasping for breath – so now she kept quiet. They passed into the rearmost storage unit where she stopped, twirling round to face him.

"My preciouses," she crooned, spreading out her arms and looking up at him.

"It's rubbish. I don't believe you have them." The customer turned to leave, his long greatcoat catching on the spout of a drinking vessel and knocking it over.

"No, no!" the pixzip cried, rushing to retrieve the vessel and return it to its place. "Here, I show." Delving into a dim corner she held up a selection of flasks, some dull grey others sparkling with jewels, in her three hands. "See."

"More rubbish."

Sensing that he was less sure of himself, she closed the gap between them. "They real. Get from spirit collector. Genuine!"

"Show me." The customer folded his arms across his chest and looked down on the pixzip, a trader on this backward world.

In moments an ancient boxlike contraption had been set up and a flask inserted. A voice emerged, high pitched and rambling seemingly in the throes of madness. The trader changed flasks and a deep rumbling came from the speakers interspersed with shrieks of agony. The next was the same.

"They amusing," she said. The man's reaction had been encouraging. He was crouched by the box listening intently to these voices of the long-dead. She sensed a sale.

"They're hurting."

"No, no, no!" She rushed to reassure him, inserting yet another flask.

The effect on the customer was startling. He fell silent, his face stunned and appalled. Dropping to the floor, he listened intently to the male voice. _"… and rage at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light …" _The voice continued, round and round in a cycle before veering off into other words.

"Where did you get this?"

"Spirit collector. He die, I buy." The pixzip was being economical with the truth, she had taken the flasks and reader from the collector's ship when he wasn't looking and then arranged for it blow up. "You want?" She made to remove the flask.

A hand shot out and caught her bony wrist. "Leave it." The menace in the man's tone was clear. "You are a parasite who trades in people's souls. You keep them encased in metal as they go mad, and find their ravings amusing. You do not deserve to live."

Thoroughly alarmed, she tried to fight him but the man was implacable and did not appear to feel the blows from her other arms. He rose dragging her with him so that she dangled from his hand. She struggled and managed to bite his hand but he did not let go. And then she was forced into a Lyuptian casket and the lid closed. In the darkness she railed and screamed but it made no difference. When she calmed, she listened and heard him searching her goods and then the box was lifted and his voice came to her clearly.

"Listen carefully, pixzip. My name is Captain Jack Harkness and I don't care for creatures like you. I was going to kill you but instead I'll leave you to experience life in a box, trapped with only your own thoughts for company. If you manage to get out, and if you're still sane, mend your ways. Because I'll be out there, watching. Don't make me regret my leniency."

Jack placed the casket on the floor and picked up the ancient box. Reluctantly he removed the flask cutting off the flow of words and placed it carefully in his pocket. With the box under his arm and the other flasks in a bag, he strode out.

-ooOoo-

It took several weeks for Jack to understand how the ancient box allowed the consciousness inside the flask to be heard. During that time, he listened to many hours of Dylan Thomas's poetry and quite a few Lennon and McCartney songs. They made him cry. As he worked to replicate the box, with additional functions, Jack rationed himself to just one hour a day of the precious words, a spur to make him work faster. Finally the custom-designed ovoid holder was complete. He placed the flask inside and held his breath.

" … _no countries, it isn't hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too …"_ The words could be heard clearly.

Taking a deep breath Jack said, "Ianto? Can you hear me?"

"… _You may say I'm a dreamer but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join me and the world will live as one."_

"Ianto, listen. It's Jack."

The voice trailed away into silence. Minutes passed and Jack slumped in the chair. It hadn't worked. Perhaps he had been wrong after all and this wasn't the essence, the soul of his long-dead lover. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face as he fought back tears. He had been so sure.

"_Jaaack?" _

Jack started upright. "Ianto? Ianto, is that you?"

"_Ianto?"_ The tone was questioning, testing the word.

"Are you Ianto Jones? Please tell me you are." Jack was crying now. He was so close.

"_Jack. Ianto." _

These two words were repeated over and over for the next thirty minutes and Jack gave up trying to interrupt. He sat back and put his feet on the control panel listening intently until gradually the words became a murmur in the background of his thoughts. The likelihood of a spirit collector being there when Ianto had died had been remote and it was just as unlikely that a captured soul would survive sane in captivity. Jack had been led to hope by the similarity to Ianto's voice and the words it had spoken. It was a chimera.

"_Hello?"_

"Hello." The response was automatic and said without thought.

"_Is that you, Jack?"_

"Umm." Jack was staring at the ceiling enjoying the fantasy conversation.

"_Prove it."_

His feet fell to the floor with a thump and Jack stared at the ovoid. "What did you say?" Surely the conversation had been imaginary?

"_I said, prove it." _

Jack floundered, unable to find any words. "Umm … er …"

"_Come on."_

"I worked for Torchwood. Recruited you. Well, no, you forced yourself on me. We caught a pterodactyl together. We called her -"

" … _Myfanwy." _The disembodied voice finished the sentence.

The silence was absolute. Jack felt more tears on his cheeks but this time they were tears of joy. It was Ianto. His Ianto. The Ianto had not seen for over a hundred years. It was a miracle.

"_Did they take them?"_

"What? Did who take what?"

"_The children. Did they take them?" _

Jack remembered. "No, we stopped them." At great personal cost, but the 456 had been stopped.

"_I knew you would."_ There was a definite smug tone to the words. Jack had no answer to this. _"I seem to be have been here, wherever here is, a long time." _

"It's been a while. But we're together again. I have missed you so much."

"_Good." _

Jack's laughter rang out and filled the small spacecraft.

-ooOoo-

Days passed into weeks and weeks into months and months into years. Jack Harkness travelled around the universe taking his companion everywhere with him. He described all the wonders he saw, felt and smelt and the two were content until the fateful day. They were on a planetoid in one of the many minor galaxies. Jack had hiked up a hill and was out of breath as he finally reached the summit and placed the ovoid container on the ground. He sat down beside it and got his breath back.

"_You're out of shape." _

"Me? Never! Always the same, that's me." His words were picked up by the headset he wore. He had tried a subcutaneous link to the ovoid but his self-repairing immortal body had repeatedly rejected it.

"_Umm."_ Ianto sounded doubtful. He could project a myriad of nuances into his words.

"It's beautiful, Ianto. Lots of violet and red swirls. Dust clouds, I think. And to the right there are yellow … dots. I'm not sure what they are they … oh, they're birds." He went on drawing word pictures, used to describing everything he saw as if for a blind man. Finally he stopped talking and drank in the view. Unusually, Ianto too was silent. After several minutes, Jack asked, "You gone to sleep?"

"_No."_

Jack thought he detected sadness. "Are you okay?"

"_Yes."_

"I don't believe you. What is it?"

Into the silence, the fateful words were spoken. _"I wish I could see it too. I wish I could see you."_

-ooOoo-

"Ianto, it's just the two of us here. No one else can hear. This is the last chance to change your mind. Do you still want to do this?"

"_Yes. I want to be with you, Jack. Properly with you." _

"It might not work. There are so many risks and –"

"_Jack, I want this."_ A pause. _"Being around you these past years has been wonderful. And I like hearing your voice but … but it's not the same as seeing you and sharing your adventures. I know the risks, I know this may not work, but I want to try." _

"You don't have to do this for me. Just hearing your beautiful Welsh vowels and having you near is enough. I don't want to lose you."

"_Have faith. We'll be together forever." _

"Together forever." Jack tried to be positive but success was far from guaranteed. And if, as was likely, the experiment failed, he would lose Ianto again and this time he would never get him back.

"_Please, Jack, let me try. I'll do everything I can to make it work. I won't leave you alone unless I have to."_

"All right. I'll get them back in." He stroked the ovoid container. "I love you."

"_I know."_

Jack left the technicians to their work, unable to watch as Ianto's flask was opened and his essence, his soul, was transferred to the positronic brain which was in turn inserted in the robotic body. Three hours later, when the team had done all they could, he collected the body and took it to his ship. Placed in the co-pilot's seat, Jack ensured it was secure and took off.

-ooOoo-

In the early days Jack spoke to the robot that he had fashioned to exactly replicate Ianto, even down to dressing it in a grey pinstriped suit. But greeted by silence when he had grown used to a response depressed him and he spoke to it less and less, playing tapes of the music and poetry Ianto loved. He had been told it would take time for Ianto's essence to permeate and learn how to operate the positronic brain but as week followed week and nothing happened he no longer hoped for a second miracle. He had lost Ianto again. Six months to the day after the transfer, he moved the robot from the flight deck and lay it on the bunk in the cabin and tried to forget about it. He spent days and then weeks at a time away from the ship, getting involved in various incidents and not bothered that he died regularly. Returning from one such local war, he keyed in the access code and entered the ship after a month away. He was covered in yellow slime and his own dried blood.

"Hello." Whirling round, Jack stared at the robot. He was standing, hands on hips, in the door to the cabin surveying Jack from head to foot. His nose wrinkled. "You smell."

"Ianto," breathed Jack, unwilling to believe.

"Of course." Suddenly all business, Ianto stepped aside beckoning Jack forward. "Wash. Now."

"Ianto!" Jack rushed forward, made to grab Ianto but ended up holding nothing but air. Ianto's robotic body moved fast and he had side-stepped nimbly.

"When you are clean and not before, Jack Harkness. Wash!" Ianto raised an arm and pointed to the cabin and the washroom beyond. "I'll get you some food."

"But I want to talk, to find out all about –"

"There's time for that later, cariad." Ianto stroked a gentle hand down the side of Jack's dirt-ingrained face. "Now, wash!"

Still glowing from the sonic shower and in clean clothes, Jack emerged onto the flight deck to find the table set with a cloth, crockery and cutlery for two. As if in a dream, he watched as Ianto turned from the heating range with a dish which he bore to the table.

"I didn't think it would work. I thought you had … that the transfer …" said Jack haltingly.

"It was more complicated than I realised. I had to worm my way into the brain before I could even start to get it to work the rest of the body." Ianto cocked his head to one side. "I was sorry when you stopped talking to me."

"I … I thought you'd gone."

"Never give up on a Jones, you should know that by now." Ianto had closed the distance between them and took one of Jack's hands in his. "You look the same, exactly the same. And you feel the same." He leant in even closer. "Even still got those pheromones."

"Oh, Ianto." Jack wrapped his arms round Ianto gently, frightened he would break or disappear.

"I'm glad you went for the deluxe body," said Ianto. His voice was muffled, his head rested on Jack's shoulder. "I'd hate it if I wasn't fully functional."

"Is it in working order?"

Ianto shifted until his groin rested against Jack's thigh. "Feel for yourself."

Jack's laughter rang out and filled the small spacecraft as it had done once before. Now it was joined by Ianto's light baritone until both were quiet, their mouths too busy with one another to continue to laugh. In one swift movement, Jack swung Ianto off his feet and carried him towards the cabin.

"Hold on, what about lunch?"

"You'd rather eat than have me?"

Ianto thought for a moment. "Ah, no. Plenty of time for eating. We have forever."

"We have forever," echoed Jack, pausing to kiss the mobile lips so close to his own.

* * *

_Not sure where this idea came from, let me know what you think of it - Jay_


	14. The Egg and I

_This story is set after Greek's Bearing Gifts and before They Keep Killing Suzie in the first season. I realise, too late, that I should have posted it for Father's Day yesterday :D _

* * *

**The Egg and I**

"Well, that answers that question." Owen glanced up at gallery where his colleagues were posed in various attitudes leaning on the railing looking down into the medical bay.

"Which question would that be?" asked Gwen sarkily. "So far you've not been able to tell us anything about it and it's been here for over a week." She waved airily at the sedated alien lying on the examination table. It was one of the cuddly, unthreatening kind that she preferred.

Toshiko giggled, Ianto sniggered and Jack laughed out loud. It had become a running joke that despite submitting the alien to a battery of tests, Owen had been able to tell them only that it was not human (obvious to them all) and had come through the Rift (also obvious as they had found it at the site of an opening). He had been entirely unable to tell them what it was, complaining that it changed its interior physical make-up daily even down to its DNA. Coming so soon after his abject failure to identify the man killed by the alien 'Mary' it was not surprising the others were making the most of his discomfort.

"I can tell you it's female and that it's pregnant."

Jack stopped laughing. "It's what?"

"Pregnant. Must have happened in the past couple of days." He peeled off his latex gloves and looked up at them. "What, not laughing now, Jack?"

"But how?" asked Gwen. "She's been in our custody for the past nine days."

"Asexual, some creatures reproduce without contact between male and female cells." Toshiko descended the steps as she spoke, reaching for a scanner lying on the side. "But if that's what happened I don't understand why you say it's a female."

"Because, all you scoffers, it wasn't asexual reproduction. The egg has human DNA in it. One of you got up close and personal with our friend here." He looked straight at Jack, well known for shagging anything with a pulse.

"Don't look at me!" he protested. "You're the one who's spent the most time with it."

"Well it's got to be one of you three," said Gwen. "No way it's Tosh or me."

"I don't know. Knew a race once that mated female to female and produced young. God, they were hot when they started –"

"I don't think we need to know that, thank you, Jack." Gwen pushed herself off the railing. "There's a simple way to find out. Analyse the DNA."

"Give the woman a prize! What do you think this is?" Owen waved a syringe containing a small amount of blood. "Took it from the egg just now."

"How long to analyse it?" asked Jack.

Owen shrugged. "Twelve, fifteen hours something like that. I have to separate the human from the alien which is tricky and then –"

"Just get on with it. Tosh, give him a hand." Jack stepped away from the railing and thrust his hands in his pockets, mind already moving on. "Everyone else, back to work." He ambled off.

Gwen followed him saying, "Jack, I'd like a word if you've got a moment."

Ianto walked down the curving steps. "Does it … she require any different care now? I mean, will she be all right to stay free among us?" The alien, species unknown, had been allowed a certain amount of liberty within the Hub during the day only being confined to a cell at night.

"Damage is done, Ianto. You can't get pregnant again when you already are." Owen stopped what he was doing. "At least, I've never come across a race that could. With this one, anything's possible." He turned back to the side table and picked up a pipette.

When it became clear Owen was not going to say any more, Ianto asked, "So we continue as normal?"

"Yeah, suppose." Owen did not bother to turn round. "Leave her here for now, might need to check something."

"Don't worry, Ianto," said Toshiko with a sympathetic smile. "I'll keep an eye on her and let you know when she comes round."

-ooOoo-

The day was winding to its end and the team was having a last coffee before heading home. As had become a habit, they gathered in the work area, sitting and standing around while catching up on the day's events and going over what was outstanding. There were no predicted Rift openings and the Weevils had been quiet for a while so everyone was hoping for an uneventful night. The discussion was interrupted by a blast of Cliff Richard singing _Congratulations_ from Owen's PC.

"Results are in!" the doctor cried. He put down his mug and twisted round to face the monitor, hands poised over the keyboard. "Any bets on who the dad is?"

"It's gotta be Jack," said Gwen from her place on the sofa.

"I agree," added Toshiko.

"My money's on Owen," said Jack firmly. "'Cos I know it isn't me."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "I'm not getting involved. Just tell us, Owen."

"Okay. The proud daddy is …" he drummed the desk in an imitation drum roll before pressing 'enter', "… Ianto."

"Me?" Ianto paled and put a hand on the wall for support.

"Ianto, you sly dog," said Jack with a wolfish grin. He clapped Ianto on the shoulder.

"But it can't be. I didn't … I mean I never … " Ianto slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

"It must be a mistake," put in Toshiko. She scooted over in her chair to look at Owen's monitor. After a moment she went on, "That is pretty conclusive."

"It's always the quiet ones," laughed Owen. "I thought you were spending a lot of time with her."

"No, this can't be," muttered Ianto.

"No need to deny it, Ianto. Guess you've become more open minded since knowing me," said Jack. Ianto glared at him.

"Leave him alone," commanded Gwen, standing up, "you can see he's upset. Let me take you home, sweetheart." She crouched in front of him. "Things will look better in the morning."

"Don't see how," said Owen. "Mind you, I should have guessed it would be him. Not much of a leap from a cyber-girlfriend to a full-blood alien."

Ianto sprang up and went for Owen but was stopped by Gwen and Jack. It took several minutes but Ianto finally calmed down and was persuaded to go home, leaving with Gwen. Jack settled down with Owen and Toshiko to discuss what had happened and the implications, for Ianto and the alien.

-ooOoo-

"What did I do, E?" asked Ianto quietly. "How did we get in this mess?"

He stood outside the glass door to the cell where the alien was sleeping peacefully on her bed. Or was it a nest, he thought with a shudder. He had tried to sleep but his brain had been in too much of a tumult and so he had crept back to the Hub in the early hours when he knew Jack would be out standing on some roof or other. For the past half an hour he had been here, looking at the creature and seeking answers.

"E?" came from behind him.

Ianto looked over his shoulder at Jack. "I … I call her Enigma, seeing as we don't know what she is. E for short."

"Good name." Jack came to stand alongside the Welshman looking into the cell. The two men stayed silently looking at the peacefully sleeping figure for a few minutes. "Got a new bottle of scotch upstairs if you're interested."

"To wet the baby's head?"

Jack chuckled. "Come on, standing here isn't going to help." He strolled off, hands in his pockets and humming a tune softly. He didn't wait for Ianto or turn round. Ianto would come when he was ready. Fifteen minutes later the two men were sitting in Jack's office with tumblers of scotch in their hands. "To E," said Jack raising his glass in a toast.

"I don't understand, sir," began Ianto. He was leaning forward with his forearms on his knees and the glass held in both hands between them as he stared at the amber liquid. "I didn't … take advantage of her."

"I know." Jack sat back, resting his head on the back of the chair and his feet on the desk staring at the ceiling. "Aliens come in all shapes and sizes, you know that by now. But still we think they're going to abide by our rules. Male and female. Two legs and two arms. Ears, eyes and noses. Same ways to reproduce. Life out there is not like that. It's amazing in its variety."

"So how did I … fertilise her?"

"Touch, probably. Or it could be a smell, a look, a sneeze even. What I find interesting is that this creature, who has baffled even Owen - and he is the best though don't tell him I said so – managed to use your DNA, human DNA, to get pregnant. Contrary to popular belief, it's not easy to cross the species barrier."

Ianto sipped his scotch, feeling a little better. "What happens now?"

"We let nature take its course. There's an egg inside E and according to Owen and Tosh it'll be laid in a couple of days. But given the unique conception, it's quite likely the egg won't hatch or if it does whatever's inside won't survive." Jack glanced across at Ianto to see how he was taking the information but could tell nothing from his impassive features.

Ianto looked up and met Jack's gaze, a slight smile curled his lips. "So I won't be bouncing junior in my knee?"

"Unlikely." Jack went back to his study of the ceiling, reassured. "Of course, one egg doesn't mean one junior. Another human assumption."

They drank in silence then Jack started talking about various alien races he had known. Ianto topped up their glasses and began to relax. His head dropped onto his chest and he fell asleep to the sound of Jack's voice. He woke four hours later on the sofa with Jack's greatcoat draped over him. He had no recollection of how he had got there. There was no sign of Jack. Hastily rising - Toshiko was likely to arrive any time – he hung up the coat and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

-ooOoo-

Enigma laid her egg at noon two days later in the nest she had devised in her sleeping cell. The Torchwood team was out so there was no one to help her. She called, a rumbling squeak, for assistance, her loud cries picked up by the intercom which no one heard. The squeaks were intermittent and weak by the time the team returned but Ianto heard them and reached her while she was still alive. She pushed the egg into his hands, gave a final squeak, and expired.

"Owen!" Ianto's shout and sudden appearance made everyone look up. "Owen, E's dead!"

"Oh no," murmured Toshiko.

"Want me to try a caesarean, Jack?" asked Owen, rolling backwards in his chair to look into the office.

"She laid the egg," interrupted Ianto. He thrust a bundle at Owen. "I wrapped it up to keep it warm."

"What am I supposed to do with it?" Owen refused to take the bundle. "It's your kid."

Jack rose and stood at the door of the office. Ianto was frantically trying to force the egg on Owen who was resisting loudly. "Enough, you two. Ianto, medical bay with me. Owen, go check on E."

"Do you need me to help?" asked Toshiko. She was standing beside Ianto, a reassuring hand on his back.

"No. You carry on with that cover story."

In less than ten minutes, Jack had rigged up a incubator for the egg. Before placing the egg inside, he quickly measured it – five centimetres long and four round – and weighed it – five grams. Now it lay alone inside the Perspex box, a small off-white egg with blue markings, under an heating lamp.

"Thank you, sir." Ianto was once more his usual impassive self.

"You know it's unlikely to hatch?" Jack watched him carefully.

"Yes, sir." Ianto forced himself to meet Jack's level gaze, relieved when his boss nodded and turned back to the incubator. "How long do you think we should allow for it to … well, until it …"

"I don't know. The monitors will pick up changes to the foetus. If there are any."

"Just have to wait then." Ianto straightened up and squared his shoulders. "I'll order lunch and put the equipment away. Unless you'd like a coffee first?"

"No, I can wait." Jack followed Ianto into the work area and watched as the young man headed to his desk. "Gwen, have a word?" He nodded towards the office and led the way in.

"Tosh brought me up to date," she said, leaning against the closed door. "Was it wise to …"

"Probably not." Jack sighed and sat at the desk. "But he's been through so much lately – Lisa, the cannibals – I couldn't dash his hopes even though the chances it will hatch are remote."

"According to Tosh, it won't. And even if it did, a human/alien hybrid?" Gwen shook her head. "What's that going to look like?"

"I know, Gwen, I know. But it's done now. I'd be grateful if you'd keep an eye on him, try and talk to him about it."

"Of course."

-ooOoo-

Late that night, Jack sat at his desk reading the results of the post-mortem on Enigma. What an appropriate name, he thought. Even opening her up and dissecting her had not provided any concrete knowledge about her. Owen had found a number of unique glands and organs but didn't know what any of them did. Tests and experiments were continuing but it looked like the small alien would remain an enigma. He initialled the report and placed it in the out-tray.

Looking up he saw Ianto walking across the work area towards him with two mugs on a tray. "Ah, coffee."

"I thought you'd like one, sir." Ianto placed the blue striped mug on the desk and hovered uncertainly.

"Drink yours with me."

"Thank you." Ianto sat, adjusting the crease in his trousers. They sipped the hot beverage.

Jack was content to sit in silence. Gwen had reported on her conversation with Ianto, an inconclusive discussion which left her feeling there was some deeper reason why he wanted the egg to hatch. Jack wondered what that could be, and if it was healthy to keep Ianto's hope alive.

"I spoke to Tosh before she went," began Ianto. His gaze was fixed on the fingers pulling at a loose thread on his knee. "She told me the … foetus is alive."

"Yes. Owen reckons three days to maturity." Ianto nodded. "He also believes E became pregnant from a touch, like we thought. Probably when you helped her up after that tumble down the stairs. Mind you, given his track record on this one I'm not sure whether to believe him." He was pleased to see Ianto smile. "So this happened only because you cared for her."

"But I didn't." Ianto raised his gaze to Jack's face. "Because of me she's dead. Everything I touch dies." His strained laugh was loud in the office.

"Enough of that! You were not to blame. We don't know why E died. Look for yourself, Owen couldn't find anything." Jack held out the post-mortem report but Ianto did not take it. "I know plenty of species where the mother dies giving birth. Enigma could have been one of those."

"But I'm the one who made her pregnant."

"Not on purpose." Jack got up and moved round the desk. "You looked after her as best you could, as best anyone could given we knew so little about her. And she was grateful for all you did. I can see her now, waddling after you making those little squeaks."

"Because she thought I had food for her."

"No, because you cared for her. Like you care for all the other aliens we come across, even the positively dangerous ones." Jack crouched down and placed a hand on Ianto's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about this."

Ianto sat with head bowed, aware of Jack beside him. They had come a long way since the night Lisa had rampaged through the Hub when both had said things they regretted. A tentative friendship had been established which had been strengthened by Jack's support after the horror of the cannibals at Brynblaedd. Jack had trusted him again allowing him to continue working, now it was Ianto's turn to trust Jack and accept what he said was true.

"I'll try not to."

Jack took Ianto in an embrace, cautious at first but then holding him tight. "Good. Now, finish your coffee and then get home. You need some sleep."

-ooOoo-

"So, is it going to hatch?"

"Looks like it. Anytime today." Owen replaced the lid on the incubator and looked across at Gwen. "You getting broody?"

"Who me?" She shifted uncomfortably. Rhys wanted a family but given she was currently cheating on him with Owen it was a sore subject.

"You aren't alone. Ianto's in here every few minutes looking at it." He gestured dismissively towards the egg lying the incubator. "And Tosh makes excuses to check on it whenever she can. Even Jack's doing it."

"I suppose it is interesting. New form of life about to be born and all that."

"It's not going to survive."

"We don't know that." This came from Ianto, descending the steps. "Any change?"

Owen sighed. "Not since you were here five minutes ago. I've got work to do even it you two haven't." He left.

Gwen moved to stand with Ianto at the incubator. "Ianto, I don't think you should get your hopes up. It's quite likely –"

"That it won't hatch. Or if it does that it'll be a monster." Ianto looked at Gwen. "I know. I just want it to be given a chance. I owe it to E."

"Rift alert!" shouted Toshiko from the work area behind them. "Big one out at Ely."

Three minutes later Jack, Owen and Gwen had departed in a flurry of activity leaving Toshiko to guide them to the opening. Ianto went on with his routine tasks, making sure to check on the egg every half an hour or so. On his third such visit the egg was rocking. The others were on clear up and Toshiko busy implementing a cover story so he said nothing, merely pulled up a chair and sat watching the miracle of birth.

"Ianto, Jack just called. They're on the way back and –" Toshiko forgot what she was going to say. "Oh, Ianto." She quickly descended the steps and stood looking down. "It's a little Enigma."

"Yeah." Ianto found it hard to speak. He ran a finger over the damp blue feathers. "If you have a moment, could you check he's okay?"

"Of course." She ran the scanner over the small creature quickly, hands trembling. "It seems to be all right. The pulsing that we think is the equivalent of a heartbeat is regular and reasonably strong."

"I thought so." He gently lifted the creature and held him against his chest, smiling as he let out a soft squeak.

"It likes you. Maybe it knows you're it's dad."

"Am I? There's nothing human about him, he looks just like E."

"He?"

"He looks like a boy." Ianto smiled up at her. "Stupid, I know, but …"

"I understand. We could try a full body scan to see if he's got any human DNA. Though it might be better to wait for Owen."

"He doesn't know any more than you do. Please, Tosh, will you do it?"

"If you want. Bring him over here."

-ooOoo-

"He is so cute," gushed Gwen. "I want to take him home and cuddle him all night."

"Me too," agreed Toshiko.

"No aliens or their technology to be taken out of the Hub. Thought you'd learnt that lesson." Jack stood with arms folded watching them as they bent over the makeshift crib Ianto had fashioned out of an empty drawer. "Go home."

"He's mean, isn't it, little Riddle?" Gwen stroked the small body.

"Riddle! I ask you, what a bloody stupid name." Owen peered into the crib, placed on the sofa in the work area, frowned and walked back to his chair.

"I think it's inspired," said Toshiko. "A riddle inside an enigma. And he certainly is both." She accepted her jacket which Gwen held out. "Thanks. You ever come across something like this before, Jack?"

"Once or twice. Goodnight, kids." He watched as the three of them left, Toshiko for home and Owen and Gwen for a stolen night together. Leaning against the wall, Jack stared down at the small creature moving around the crib as if testing its limits.

"Have they gone?" asked Ianto. He had come silently through Jack's office and now stood a pace or two away, also looking down into the crib.

"Yeah. You should go too."

"In a bit. Strange, Riddle's nothing to do with me, not a trace of my DNA in him, and yet I feel like he's mine."

Jack chuckled. "Going to introduce him to the rest of the family? Put his name down for Eton?"

"No." Hurt at being misunderstood suffused the one word.

"Sorry. Lame joke."

"No, I'm sorry, sir. I'm being unduly sensitive."

"Not surprised after all Owen's efforts! Thought he'd never stop." Jack stood up. "You were right to make us look after the egg. I had my doubts but you never did. I'm proud of you." He clapped a hand on Ianto's shoulder.

Ianto looked at his boss, startled and surprised at the praise. A warm feeling flowed through him; he really was part of the team again. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"Enough to get me another cup of coffee?"

"Coming right up."

* * *

_Don't forget to let me know what you think of this, I'd love to know._


	15. All Steamed Up

**All Steamed Up**

"You want me to talk to Neil?"

"Please. He should have something by now." Jack closed the bulky file with a snap and handed it across the desk. "Then you can get off home."

"Need a drink first. There might still be somewhere open." It was gone nine o'clock and by the time Owen had spoken to Neil at Jodrell Bank there wouldn't be much drinking time left.

"Sure you'll find somewhere." Jack stood and followed Owen out of the office. It was late after a reasonably busy day and he was hoping for a mug of coffee and a shag with Ianto. "What's up?"

Owen, standing between his desk and the medical bay, raised a hand for silence. He pointed to the archway. Jack moved up beside him and heard it too.

"Oh yes! Go, baby, go!"

Jack frowned at Owen who shrugged.

"Right there, yes, right there. Oh yes! Yes! Yes!"

Owen grinned. There was no mistaking the voice. Ianto was in the medical bay … enjoying himself. The doctor stuffed a hand in his mouth to stop the laugh that was dying to escape – he didn't want to alert the Welshman to their presence - and stepped forward. Jack went with him, amused at catching out Ianto and disappointed he hadn't been asked to join in the fun. The two men stepped through the archway and stopped at the railing, looking down into the medical bay. Ianto had his back to them, bending over the examination table. He was in shirtsleeves but was otherwise fully clothed which surprised – and further disappointed – Jack.

"You are so hot, baby. So … hot!"

"Something I can help you with, Ianto?" asked Jack.

Ianto twirled round, expression comically startled. A curving spurt of hot steam surrounded him and ended up aimed at the men at the railing. Jack took a step backwards. Owen bent over, finally letting out a huge guffaw of laughter which echoed round the tiled space.

"Sorry." Ianto turned off the steam. The remaining cloud slowly dissipated and he stood looking up.

Jack leant on the railing. "Care to explain, Ianto."

"I was cleaning, sir." Ianto stood up straighter and adopted his best impassive expression.

"Only you!" spluttered Owen, still laughing. "Only you, teaboy."

"You always get off when you clean?" Jack had a fleeting vision of Ianto in a French maid's outfit with a feather duster in his hand. He'd have to follow that up when the time was right.

"No, I …" He stopped. He was already in a hole, why keep digging. "It's this, sir." He held up what looked like a bright yellow kettle with a long nozzle. "It's marvellous. Gets into the corners and removes everything." Ianto's enthusiasm was clear. "Even got off the slime from the kraken that nothing else would shift. Just look at this." He turned and gestured to the examination table. "Have you ever seen it so clean? Come and look."

With an indulgent sigh and a wry smile, Jack walked down the steps. The examination table's metal top shone, reflecting the overhead lights until it hurt the eyes to look at it. "Spotless," he commented solemnly.

"And it works on everything," went on Ianto enthusiastically. "All the kitchen surfaces. Tiles, upholstery. And it disinfects at the same time. The whole Hub is going to be spotless, sir. Really, truly spotless. No more buckets and mops, just me and my steam cleaner." He beamed at his boss.

"You are something else, Ianto, you really are." Owen was grinning widely. "All the stuff in this place and you get hard over .. that!"

"This is useful."

"It's a glorified kettle! I'll go call Neil." He walked off, planning to check out the CCTV and copy it. It would be a laugh to show Ianto's antics to the girls tomorrow. And there must be some appropriate music track he could play underneath it.

"You about done?" asked Jack.

"No!" Ianto waved the steam machine around at the medical bay. "There's the walls. That grouting is filthy - something's probably living in it – and the floor. And –"

"You really want to do that now?" Jack moved closer, pulling Ianto into his arms. "When I'm here? All the paperwork's done and I have nothing to do." He ran both hands over the Welshman's arse.

Ianto looked at Jack's hopeful expression and then at the wonderful new cleaning machine. It was a tough choice. Both made him feel good, got him hot and bothered. Both could get a head of steam up on no time flat. Which to go for? He made his decision and leant into the embrace, setting the steam cleaner down on the examination table. As he settled into Jack's kiss, Ianto was thinking that very soon he'd be able to test the cleaner on human bodily fluids.

* * *

_Not sure where the idea for this came from, I just hope you enjoy it._


	16. Face from the Past

_Tosh and Ianto find something unexpected. Set mid-first season. _

* * *

**Face from the Past**

The auction was held in a function room in the Angel Hotel. The goods for sale were on view, either hung on the walls or spread out on tables. Dealers were sifting through them, checking for marks and condition, calculating their worth and noting down the lots on which they wanted to bid. Potential buyers were sitting in the chairs – also for sale – ranked before a podium at one end of the room. Toshiko Sato took a seat on the end of the fourth row and checked the list of lots once more. There were two Jack had sent her to buy, numbers 32 and 103. The first was a Gualistic umbrella pod listed as 'Gourd from Central Africa c. 1870' with an estimate of £20-£30. The second was a mixed lot, a 'Box of miscellaneous coins and other items', which included Pronskite credits. This did not have an estimate, a sign the auctioneer did not expect to get much above the minimum bid of £5.

Activity around the podium announced the arrival of the auctioneer. She sat behind the podium and banged her gavel. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming to this general sale of household and miscellaneous items. We start with Lot One, a silver plate candelabra in excellent condition." The plasma screen showed a picture of the candelabra and it was also held up by a porter. "Do I hear £50?"

No one responded. Toshiko was used to this. She had attended many auctions since joining Torchwood and knew no one responded to the first tentative suggestion of price. The first bid was made at £20. After a tussle between a woman seated two rows in front of Toshiko and a dealer standing at the side of the room the candelabra was sold for £56. More lots came under the hammer and sold more or less on estimate. Only two went for a lot more than expected: a gold pocket watch for £350 and a collection of silver cutlery for £430. Three lots were unsold as they did not reach the seller's reserve.

Lot 32 arrived and Toshiko bid £10. One dealer joined it at £12 but Toshiko's further bid of £15 secured the 'gourd'. She marked it on the printed list of lots. There was commission and VAT to add which would make the total price just under £20. A small outlay to secure the alien artefact for Torchwood. She sat through more lots, watching the crowd shift as dealers in particular wandered in and out of the saleroom, some with cups of tea and coffee from the vending machine outside. Finally Lot 103 arrived. There were more bids than the auctioneer had expected and Toshiko had to go up to £30 – Jack's limit – before seeing off a persistent dealer. It would be nearly £40 after commission etc.

Having secured the lots she wanted, she left the saleroom. She had quarter of an hour to kill before the last lots would be available to pay for and take away so she headed for the vending machine.

"Excuse me. I think you got Lot 103."

Toshiko turned, hot chocolate in hand, and found a tall young man smiling at her. He looked like a dealer though better dressed than most in clean jeans and an ironed shirt with a jacket over the top. "That's right," she said.

"There's one item in there I was interested in. I wondered if you would be willing to sell it on."

"Depends what it is." They moved to stand by the window. Deals such as this were common. Mixed lots contained many odds and ends the auctioneer considered had little or no value. A dealer, however, might spot one item that had potential and not want the rest. This man was hoping Toshiko did not want what he did.

"It's a fob compass. I collect them."

Toshiko sipped her chocolate and considered. This man had not bid for the lot which was odd if he wanted this piece so much. It could have been a strategy to throw off the competition: bidding could have drawn attention to this compass and driven up the price. Or maybe he had just got here too late. Whichever, she had no use for a compass but might be able to get him to pay as much if not more than the complete lot cost by selling it. But she was not going to agree yet. "I might. Come and see me when I've actually got the goods. Say twenty minutes?"

"Good. Thanks. I'll be back." He smiled. "I'm Dave, by the way."

"Toshiko."

"I'll be back shortly, Toshiko."

She sat down and watched him head back to the saleroom. She had met quite a few dealers and knew they were a canny breed. There must be something special about the fob compass and she was going to take a close look at it before letting Dave have it. Fifteen minutes later she paid for the two lots and took them back to the chairs under the window. With the Gualistic umbrella pod on the chair beside her, Toshiko delved into the box. There were a number of coins – florins, old pennies and a few tiny farthings and the seven Pronskite credits - in a plastic bag. Making up the rest were: two paste lady's rings; a broken watch chain; a rather nice amber seal; a dozen saucy postcards; a large photograph album which was falling to bits; and the fob compass. She took out the last item and looked at it closely. Rubbing away the dirt she found hallmarks. The compass was made of nine carat gold, no wonder Dave wanted it.

"You found it then." Dave sat down and smiled at her. "May I?"

She dropped it into his hand. "Gold, I see," she said. "I hope you don't want to melt it down."

Dave was peering at the marks through a jeweller's eye glass and didn't speak for a minute or two. "That would be a waste. You willing to deal?"

"Make me an offer."

After a bit of haggling Toshiko accepted £100, covering the cost of both lots with a profit. The compass was clearly worth a lot more but she was happy to let Dave make a profit too. Balancing the umbrella pod on top of the open box, she went out into the Cardiff night and hailed a taxi.

-ooOoo-

Ianto rang Toshiko's doorbell at eight precisely. He fidgeted with the bottles of wine; as he didn't know what they were eating he had brought red and white. The door opened to the accompaniment of soft piano jazz.

"Hi, Ianto. Come on in." She went off leaving him to follow. "Gotta get back to my sauce."

He closed the door and hung up his coat before joining her in the open plan kitchen. This was his third visit to the flat. After his suspension, Toshiko had made an effort to bring him back into the team with a drink after work, friendly chats and even once a cup of coffee. There had been awkward moments as both remembered the night Lisa had rampaged through the Hub threatening them all but gradually Ianto had warmed to Toshiko and they had formed a tentative friendship. Pub meals and a karaoke night had helped bring them together so that when she had been distressed after the events with the alien Mary it had been Ianto's turn to bring her back into the team. She had suggested she cook a meal just a few days ago.

"Smells good," he said. The red wine was put on the side and the white went in the fridge. "I brought red and white, didn't know which you'd want."

"How about both?" She grinned at him, stirring a pot. "Grab a beer while you're there."

"Want one?" He took out a chilled bottle of German lager.

"Already got one." She nodded towards the bottle standing on the counter. "Anything happen after I left?"

"Jack went off somewhere. Gwen and Owen were playing silly buggers so I left them to keep an eye on things." He sat on a stool sipping lager and felt the tension of the day fall off him.

"'Bout time they pulled their weight." She added seasoning the sauce. "It's penne in a cheese and mushroom sauce, by the way. Got some of those chocolate fondants from Marks too."

"Sounds delicious. Auction any good?"

"I got the stuff. Sold one piece out of the job lot and made more than I paid for everything." She told him the tale as she expertly juggled preparing the meal.

They ate at the small table in the kitchen and found plenty to talk about. By the time they were on the chocolate fondants they had drunk the white wine and started on the red. The concerns of Torchwood seemed a long way away. With the dishwasher loaded, they went into the lounge with the remains of the red wine and mugs of coffee. Toshiko curled up in her favourite chair and Ianto took one end of the couch alongside the box of auction items.

"This what you got?" he asked, picking up the Gualistic umbrella pod.

"Uh-huh. You know why Jack wanted it so badly?"

"No. The man's a mystery." One that intrigued him more than he wished to admit.

Ianto put the pod to one side and delved into the box. He laid out the contents on the coffee table in a neat line. He smiled over the postcards, remembering seeing similar ones as a child when on holiday on the Gower and the delight of getting the saucy joke. They seemed pretty tame now. The last item was the photograph album and he lifted it out carefully. The front cover had come free and a loose photograph fluttered to the floor. He retrieved it. A black and white view of a large country house with a big car – a Bentley, he thought - parked in front. Setting aside the loose cover, he looked through the pages of photographs.

"What are they?" asked Toshiko. "I hadn't got as far as looking at them."

"A house party at Colman Manor near Bridgend in ... 1933." He read from the captions alongside the photos. "Lots of toffs all dressed up doing daft things."

"If there's anyone interesting in them, we might be able to sell it. There's a market for that kind of memorabilia. Or the owners of the house might want them." She sipped her coffee.

"You've been to too many auctions, Tosh. Gonna take up dealing on the side?"

"Not a bad idea," she replied with a smile. "It's quite fascinating actually. The weirdest stuff makes a lot of money. Real tat. I reckon I could turn a profit." She waited but he did not comment. "Ianto?"

"I don't believe it." He was staring at a portrait of a man in white tie and tails adjusting the cuff of his jacket. "It's Jack."

"Can't be. He's not that old!" Toshiko moved to sit beside Ianto and peered over his shoulder. Her smile faded. "Oh my, it is him."

Ianto was reading the caption. "_'Jack just before the Hunt Ball_.' I don't understand."

"It's seventy years ago, Ianto. Has to be his grandfather or some other relation." Toshiko removed the photograph from the mounts and studied it more closely. "Whoever it is, he's the spitting image of Jack."

"Got the same name too." Ianto flicked through the rest of the album looking more closely at each photograph. Jack, or his doppelganger, didn't appear in any of them. "No others of him."

"We'll ask Jack in the morning. He might want to keep it." Toshiko handed the photograph back to Ianto and reached for her coffee.

-ooOoo-

Ianto returned from the archives after cataloguing the Gualistic umbrella pod and Pronskite credits. It was quiet in the Hub. The rest of the team were at their desks: Owen and Toshiko on the computers; Gwen talking quietly on her mobile; and Jack reading reports. This would be a good time. Ianto picked up the photograph album and walked with it to the office.

"This was among the stuff Tosh bought yesterday," he said when Jack looked up.

"And?" Jack kept a finger at the place he had reached in the report. He had to finish it and could have done without the interruption. However, he and Ianto were establishing a better working relationship and he didn't want to discourage him.

"And we found this inside." Ianto put the album down and opened it at the page marked. "Look familiar? It's from the 1930s."

"Good Lord." Jack forgot about the report and peered closely at the photograph, a big grin on his face. A cover story came to mind immediately; this wasn't the first time he had had to get out of this kind of situation. "Handsome blighter, wasn't he?"

"You know him?"

"Great Uncle Jack. Who else could it be?" He glanced up and met Ianto's questioning gaze with a guileless one of his own. "Can hardly be me."

"No. No, I suppose not. It's just you … look very alike. And the name." Ianto wanted to believe his boss but there was something about the way Jack had spoken and the look in his eye that left room for doubt. Even though it was impossible for Jack to be a hundred years old, the man in the photograph looked so very like him.

"Family name." Jack flicked through the album looking at the faces of people he had known two lifetimes ago. He had infiltrated William Llewellyn's circle to look into the rumours of mystic rites. There had been nothing to it, just a lot of foolish people with too much time on their hands playing at witchcraft, but he had enjoyed their company and the chance to dress up. "Leave this with me. I'd like to take a proper look." He shut the album and smiled up at Ianto.

"Okay."

"Is it time for coffee yet?"

"I'll get you some." He turned to leave.

Gwen appeared at the door. "Jack, we've got to go. Double murder at Cathays."

"What's that got to do with us?" He was already on his feet and reaching for his Webley, responding to her urgent tone.

"Not sure but the detective in charge wants our help."

"All right, we'll take a look. Ianto, you stay here. Rest of you, with me." He shrugged into the greatcoat Ianto held ready for him and led the team out of the Hub.

In the ensuing events involving the Resurrection Glove and Suzie Costello only Ianto noticed the photograph album had disappeared. He never saw it again.


	17. Casting Around

_Sorry for not posting here for a while. I've been working on longer stories. But here's one I hope you will enjoy. _

* * *

**Casting Around**

The meetings had been held in St Michael's Church Hall in Cathays every Thursday for the past eight months. Each followed the same format: a short presentation – with slides – by either Duncan Enderton or Patsy Clarke and then an open discussion. This was a self-help group for those who had been Taken. Sometimes a partner might attend too - for support or in protest – but they rarely came more than once. In the early days, when Duncan had placed adverts in the _Western Mail_, unbelievers had come along to mock and make fun. He quickly learnt his lesson. These days he relied on word of mouth only.

At 20.10, as Patsy gave the presentation, Duncan sat on the low dais next to her and looked out at the audience. He nodded in satisfaction. It was a good turnout: ten people including him and Patsy. Most were regulars but there was a new girl who had been introduced as Evelyn, brought along by Tim, an old hand. The two other newcomers, who had arrived after the start of the meeting and sat towards the back of the Hall away from everyone else, were an odd couple. One was dressed like a World War Two airman and the other was clearly a disbeliever. Perhaps the airman had been Taken and the other man was his friend. Duncan hoped they were not here to make trouble.

"Sit still," hissed Jack Harkness out of the side of his mouth.

"Why me? Why bring me?"

"This is medical."

"This is crap!"

Owen Harper's voice carried over Patsy's presentation. She faltered and stopped, looking their way. Duncan half rose in his chair and the other members of the audience turned to stare at the two men. Jack smiled and shrugged in mute apology. Patsy started speaking again and one by one she regained her audience's attention. All bar Owen who sank even lower in his chair. He was not embarrassed, he was sulking. Eventually Patsy concluded her talk to a smattering of applause.

"Thank you, everyone. Please help yourselves to tea and one of Celia's lovely rock cakes. We'll continue in ten minutes."

"Come on." Jack stood up and headed to the trestle table on which stood a couple of Thermos flasks and a plate of daunting cakes. He was intercepted by Duncan.

"Duncan Enderton." He held out a hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness." They shook hands.

"We haven't seen you here before. How did you hear about us?"

"Oh, here and there." Jack smiled. "Sorry about … my friend." He gestured to Owen who was in the queue for tea. "He doesn't believe."

"Many don't. But you do?"

"That there's life out there? Oh yeah. I've seen it."

Even Duncan was surprised by Jack's depth of belief. Most of the Taken distrusted their experiences and tried to apply human rationale to non-human experiences. Disbelief even ridicule from family and friends further undermined their faith. But not Jack. "I hope you'll feel able to share your experiences with us. Many find it hard to accept so readily."

"But I thought everyone had been Taken?" The two men went to the table and got cups of tea. "If anyone knows, they do."

"Unfortunately, once back on Earth the experience can seem unreal. I had the same problem. If it hadn't been for Patsy I'd have thought it was a dream." He looked across at his partner and smiled.

Across the room, Owen watched Jack chatting and wondered what he could find to say to the weirdo. Taken? Like heck they were Taken! Aliens did not come to Cardiff to take humans on board their ship for chats or experimentation. And most definitely not for sex. Anyone who said otherwise was bonkers. Aliens came to Cardiff for one reason only, to cause mayhem and destruction which Torchwood had to clear up. He couldn't understand why Jack had insisted they give up a precious evening to listen to this twaddle. He sipped the tea not bothering with the cakes – he didn't want a broken tooth – and ignored everyone. When the others sat down for the discussion, Owen held back, deliberately sitting on his own.

"So," said Duncan, looking round the circle. "For the benefit of Evelyn and Jack, who we welcome to our group, this is the informal part of our meeting but, I like to think, the most important. Discussing our experiences helps us all. Jack asked me about my own Taking so I'll just run through it briefly." He launched into what was obviously an oft-repeated tale. "I returned to the staff room for something I'd forgotten, rushing a bit as I didn't want to be late for Year 8. It was empty and I immediately noticed an antique book on the chair where I'd been sitting. I love old books and wondered if one of my colleagues had left it for me. The title was clear," Duncan paused for effect, "a Shakespeare First Folio."

A small ripple went through the group, they knew such a book was incredibly rare and incredibly valuable. Duncan smiled, pleased his experience had not lost its appeal with repeated telling. Evelyn was wide-eyed, gaze fixed on him as she leant forward. Jack was clearly interested but not as caught up in the moment.

Duncan went on. "I was astounded, of course, and reached for it. As soon as I touched it, I was Taken. A light descended on me and –" He broke off as Owen guffawed loudly.

When everyone turned to look at him, he said, "Sorry." However, His grin stayed as broad as before. This was such a cliché, he couldn't take it seriously.

"Carry on, Duncan. Ignore my friend." Jack smiled encouragingly before glowering at Owen. "What kind of light was it?"

Not expecting the question, no one had asked before, Duncan floundered for a moment. "Umm, err, a blue light. It surrounded me and I was drawn up. I could feel myself travelling upwards through the building, the sky, even space itself." He was back into his stride now. "The journey ended in a totally enclosed room. No doors or windows, just plain blue walls. And that was where I met Patsy."

"You met on the ship?" asked Evelyn in a breathy whisper. "I was alone." She was young, only just in her twenties, pretty and eager. She was an ardent conservationist, wore clothes gleaned from the local charity shops and tried to be a vegetarian.

"There were a number of people in the room," put in Patsy. Like her partner, she was in her early to mid-thirties and living a typical suburban life. "Five once Duncan joined us. We'd all been taken separately and dumped but we could talk to one another. It wasn't easy to move though, as if our legs and arms were too heavy."

"I felt like that."

One of the other members, Barry, spoke up. "Gravity. The Takers come from a planet with stronger gravity."

Owen couldn't keep quiet. "Oh yeah? How do you know that? See 'em when they were experimenting on you?" The group reacted immediately, some shouting, some retreating into hurt silence and one or two on their feet threatening violence.

Jack closed his eyes and counted to ten. Not his best decision to bring Owen perhaps - Ianto would have been a lot less confrontational - but there was a medical element to their being here. Rumours of people being removed from their homes or places of work had surfaced a few months ago but it was not until Gwen had spotted a pattern that Torchwood had become interested. Toshiko had quickly found this group and they had monitored it from a distance until Jack had decided to come and see for himself. He needed to hear from them direct to confirm his suspicions. Now he had met the group, he was pretty sure he was right.

"Please, everyone, please resume your seats. We have all had to deal with unbelievers." Duncan's plea calmed his flock a little. Only the most belligerent stayed standing, glaring at Owen.

"I apologise," said Jack. He walked across to Owen, pulled him to his feet and took him to a remote corner. "Keep your trap shut or I'll stuff a rock cake in it." Merely lifting one had shown him they were inedible. "Go outside and ask Tosh to get all she can on the Fishermen. Start in the fifties. Ianto can help her. Then come back in here but keep quiet."

"You can't believe 'em," protested Owen.

"I do. Look at them, Owen, really look at them. Now go." He gave Owen a push in the right direction.

Standing in the car park in the drizzle Owen raised Toshiko on the comms. "Jack wants chapter and verse on the Fishermen. Operating in the fifties. Says you can get Ianto to help."

"_Okay. How's it going?" _

"Total waste of time. They're all loony-tunes."

"_That what Jack thinks?" _

"Nah, he's bought their twaddle. He's as nuts as them. Taken by lights and kept on a spaceship?" he scoffed. "It's the same old, same old. Think they could come up with something new by now."

"_He's not usually wrong." _

"Don't you believe it. Found anything yet?" It was cold and damp in the car park and he hated being wet.

"_Got some info. I'll send it to your PDA. I'll let you have any more as I find it." _

"Cheers. I'm going back inside so I won't be able to talk but I'll keep the comms open."

"_Fine." _

A few members of the circle, including Jack, looked round when Owen returned but once he sat down at the back, within earshot but far enough away not to be threatening, they went back to their discussion. Owen settled comfortably and put the PDA on his knee, scrolling through the message that had just arrived. He kept one ear on the discussion and in the other heard Toshiko and Ianto as they chatted about what they were finding in the records. Sitting there, he also pondered Jack's comment about the group. What was he supposed to deduce from looking at them? They were the usually motley crew of society's rejects as far as he could see, a real mixture. One thing he noticed was a subtle shift in the group dynamics, Jack was leading them now.

"So all of you were tempted," said Jack. He leant forward, forearms on his knees, and looked round. "Duncan had the Shakespeare, Patsy the baby, Barry the Harley etc etc. Were you thinking of those things before you were taken?

"You think that's why they chose us?" asked Tim. He was a shy young man in his late twenties whose arms and legs seemed too long for him to control. He had not spoken until now. "Because we're greedy?"

"It's not greed. We all have dreams, usually of things we never think we'll get. Mine's a date with Angelina Jolie." Everyone laughed. "Your dreams were realised right before you were Taken."

"We've spoken of this before, of course," said Duncan nodding knowledgeably. "The Takers, that's what we call them, clearly read our minds. But you call it temptation as if it was somehow deliberate, menacing even. It wasn't that."

"Just a word." Jack smiled, refusing to be drawn.

"Oh." Duncan was not convinced. "As I recall, I had been reading about the auction of a Folio in the newspaper."

"Did you say anything about it?"

Duncan considered for a moment. "I may have mentioned it to Adawe. Just in passing, you understand. Something like, wouldn't it be wonderful to own something like that."

"I thought that about the Lalique vase," put in Celia. "It was on the TV, one of those auction shows, and I thought how good it would look on my sideboard. And there it was." She was the oldest of the group, a sprightly seventy three years old. A pensioner with time on her hands, watching afternoon television helped fill her days. That and baking cakes no one wanted to eat.

The others agreed that this had happened to them all. Some had spoken aloud, others had merely thought about the object of their desire but in every case the object had materialised in front of them. Once they touched it the light had Taken them. During their time in the custody of the Takers, they had not been harmed. The general feeling was that the Takers were benevolent and merely wished to observe humans.

"Going back to the light," said Jack. "It was blue for all of you?" They nodded. "Could it have been moving rings? Like passing through circles of blue lights?"

"Yes! That's just what it was. They started out slow then speeded up. Or I did," said Evelyn. Her wide-eyed stare was now fixed on Jack. She had been Taken only recently and was open to anything that provided explanation and reassurance. The experience had terrified her and she had not been able to return to her old life.

"I'm not sure," put in Barry, a stolid man of fifty. He was a mechanic, a practical man and the most sceptical of the group. It had been a long time before he was convinced he had been Taken at all. "I shut my eyes for most of it."

"Don't blame you," said Jack with a smile.

"What about you? You've not told us of your experience," put in Patsy. She had changed careers after being Taken and was now training to be a psychologist planning to specialise in helping those who had had similar experiences. There was something about Jack that was different and which concerned her. She had noticed how the group reacted to him – he had charisma, she felt it herself - did he want to take over? She resolved to be on her guard against him.

Owen looked up and listened more attentively. After two years working for the man, he still knew next to nothing about Jack. What was he going to say? Had he been Taken? Is that what made him join Torchwood? Although, according to Toshiko, there was stuff in the archives about him from years and years ago. Rubbish, of course, he wasn't that old! Either a family dynasty or he had a personal time machine. Knowing Jack, Owen would go for the latter every time; the bloke was full of surprises.

Jack looked round the group. All ages, both sexes and from different levels of society. One of the quiet ones, he had not caught the name, lived in a homeless shelter while Amanda owned a chain of beauty salons. He was sure he was right and the chatter he had overheard on his comms seemed to confirm it. It was time to come clean. "I haven't been Taken. But I've travelled by teleport many times."

Still in their seats, the group collectively gasped and sat back. Patsy and Duncan exchanged startled and worried glances. Despite their shock, the group was not angry at this revelation. Not yet, at least.

"You were all teleported from Earth to a holding cell in orbit above us," Jack went on. "By aliens." He glanced round at them, noting the confused reactions. They had believed they were Taken but this confirmation was still a surprise. He looked over at Owen and gestured for the PDA.

"Who are you?" asked Evelyn. She was probably the most open-minded. Others in the group had had longer to rationalise their experiences, for it to become set in stone as they had chosen to remember it. They didn't want Jack coming along with new information that might upset their carefully crafted theories.

Owen stood behind Jack and handed over the PDA, watching the play of emotions on the group's faces. He now understood why Jack had brought him; a doctor would carry more weight when it came to 'treating' them. Owen was reluctantly convinced Jack had been right. The information Toshiko had found confirmed the Fishermen were back. UNIT had spotted the ship circling Earth in high orbit nearly a year ago but it had left when given a warning. Unaware of the aliens' intentions, UNIT had thought no more about it and missed the holding cell left behind in the mass of satellites and other space junk just beyond the planet's atmosphere. Toshiko was furious they had also missed the significance of the teleports; the language coming over the comms was ripe.

"I told you, I'm Jack." He smiled at her before glancing at the PDA. It confirmed all he had already guessed. "We call the aliens that took you the Fishermen. They've been here before. They seed the atmosphere with millions ... billions of tiny capsules. Invisible to the human eye, each one is programmed to a specific type of person. Gender, age, occupation and the odds of it being the vicinity of the right person when they are wishing for something is astronomic. I can't even calculate it." He handed the PDA back to Owen.

"Why? Why do they do this?" asked Duncan.

Owen pulled up a chair and sat to the side and behind Jack. The members of the group were all intent on Jack, listening and watching with an intensity humans can rarely maintain for long. Jack is good, he thought. He's got them in the palm of his hand.

"Sport." He watched the confused reaction.

Duncan spoke again, this time indignantly. "What do you mean 'sport'?"

"You mean they catch us, like fish?" asked Barry. He had spent many hours fishing on the banks of canals and at sea.

Jack nodded. "Hence the name. They transport the ones they catch to a cell in orbit and then … throw them back."

"Why?" This was from Evelyn.

"Points. Different types of catch score a set number of points. Amanda, a successful female businesswoman, would be highest. She's rarer. The Fisherman with the most points in a set period of time wins."

"I don't believe you!" Duncan was getting angry. "You're making this up."

Jack shrugged and sat back. He wasn't surprised they were angry. Being Taken had given them an importance most didn't have in normal day-to-day life. The experience might be difficult to explain to friends and family but it also set them apart as something special. Finding they had been plucked at random as part of an alien game had none of the cachet they had come to enjoy. The group began talking loudly, arguing back and forth.

Owen leaned forward. "You gonna Retcon 'em?"

"If they want it," said Jack quietly. He was watching carefully and decided the time was right to intervene. "Not what you expected, I know, but I thought the point of these meetings was to uncover the truth."

"Yes, but –" Duncan could not carry on. For months he had believed aliens had selected him for a purpose, one he didn't – couldn't – understand, but a purpose nonetheless. To be plucked at random for no reason at all was so … pointless. "It can't be true," he said finally.

"Sorry, it is. Question is, what do we do about it."

"Can you stop them?" asked Evelyn. Her quiet voice cut through the chatter and the others fell silent waiting for an answer.

"You want me to?"

"Yes. They didn't hurt me, us, but no one has the right to play with us like that." This view was supported by the rest of the group.

"Okay." Jack opened his comms. "Tosh, give UNIT what we've got and tell them to block the teleport and destroy the holding cell. Once they've checked it's empty."

"_With pleasure." _

"No one else will be Taken," he confirmed to the group. "Which leaves you. Dr Harper here is a specialist. He has a special pill that can help you forget being Taken. It'll blur the memories, make them gradually disappear. Take it and you can get back to normal. Or –"

"Hang on," said Patsy. "Who are you? You come in here and tell us this stuff, which is frankly more unbelievable than being what we already knew, and expect us to believe you without evidence or … anything!" Like Duncan, she was unwilling to give up the status being Taken had given her. She liked leading this group and was half-way through writing a book about her experiences.

"You can believe me or not, your choice. All I'm saying is that for those that want it, we can take away the memories."

"And those that don't?" asked Barry.

Jack shrugged. "Nothing. You keep the memories, can carry on meeting for as long as you want, but there'll be no new members. We've stopped the aliens."

"That's right," confirmed Owen. "Everyone already thinks you're a load of tossers, no skin off our nose if you want to prove it."

Jack shot him a glance. He was not helping although he was right. "Go and get some water." When the doctor went to the refreshment table, Jack sat back and waited. The members of the group looked at one another warily. Tim and Evelyn put their heads together and whispered urgently. Patsy and Duncan got up and walked a few yards away to have their discussion.

"I don't want to forget," said Celia firmly. "Nothing ever happens to me and I want to remember. So what if I wasn't picked special-like, I was still picked. Against the odds, right?"

"Right." Jack grinned at her. She had a lot of spunk for an old lady.

"We want to forget," said Evelyn, speaking for herself and Tim. "I'm sorry if that sounds cowardly," she looked round the group, "but we want to live normal lives."

"Not cowardly at all, dear," said Celia. "You're young, lots of good things will happen to you."

Owen held out a hand, palm uppermost, containing two small pills. "Take one of these each. Here's some water. Go straight home, you'll start feeling drowsy in an hour or so. When you wake up, the memories will seem like a dream."

"No!" exclaimed Duncan, re-joining the group. "Don't touch them, Tim." He faced Jack. "We still don't know who you are, who you work for or why you're here. Those pills could be poison."

"Afraid of losing your acolytes?" said Jack easily, standing up. "Be difficult, won't it, going back to being a bog-standard English teacher in a failing school after this. Nothing to make you feel important then."

"Don't talk to him like that!" Patsy was beside Duncan. "This is our meeting, our group. Get out."

"And you'll not have people to analyse." He shook his head in sorrow and turned to the others. "The pills are not poison but they will make you like you were before. No more family and friends thinking you're mad, no more of these meetings. It's up to you what you decide."

Fifteen minutes later, Jack and Owen stood outside the hall. All but three had taken the Retcon and were already on their way home. Duncan, Patsy and Celia were the hold-outs and they didn't matter. All in all Jack was pleased with the evening's work. The Fishermen's game had been stopped and five people had resumed their normal – if humdrum - lives.

"Think they'll ever change their minds?" asked Owen. He gestured to the hall where Duncan and the two women remained.

"No. They have nothing else."

"I need a drink. Coming?"

"Why not?"


	18. Farewell

_This is set early in the first season._

* * *

**Farewell**

The message was hand delivered. One wet Wednesday in March a plump, middle-aged woman pushed open the door to the Tourist Office and stood peering in. The swirl of wind and rain she brought with her set Ianto's teeth on edge and he frowned.

"Can I help you?" he asked abruptly.

"I've got a message." She remained standing in the doorway letting in the bad weather.

"Then come in and shut the door," he ordered. It had been a long and trying day and his normally even temper was fraying.

Realising with some surprise the door was still open, she hastily took a step into the brightly-lit room and closed it behind her. "Sorry. Didn't think."

"No. What can I do for you?" He was keen to get rid of her. The rest of the team were on their way back from a call-out and might decide to come in this way. Besides, he wanted to get downstairs. He had things to do.

"It's from Mrs Carter. Mrs Doris Carter. I'm her carer. Well, not just hers, I look after all the old dears at Harbourside. Eighteen we've got but Doris, Mrs Carter, she's the nicest. And the oldest. A hundred and six she is. Born when Victoria was queen, amazing isn't it?"

"I don't know a Mrs Carter."

"Obviously. You're not the one the message is for!" She had just noticed his brusque manner and resented it. Coming here hadn't been her idea, she was doing Doris a favour, and she didn't need this young man to get snippy with her.

"Who is?"

"Captain Harkness." A wet shopping bag was placed on the counter only just missing a pile of new maps. Delving into the depths of the bag, the woman went on, "Doris has told me all about him. Says he's handsome and dashing, someone everyone notices. Obviously not you! Wears a big coat too. Ah, here it is." She produced a lilac envelope and handed it over. "Will you give it to him?"

"Yes." Anything to get rid of her.

"Good. Tell him she's not got much time. A day or two at best."

She was halfway to the door before he realised what she had said. "I'm sorry, do you mean she's ill?"

"Young man, she's a hundred and six! She's never well, not really. Can't get about and her sight's not brilliant. Can hear all right though and likes a chat. Still, it's not much of a life and she's finally letting go of it. Tell the captain, it's now or never!" With that the woman left in a flurry of wind and a spatter of rain.

It was two hours before Ianto remembered to pass on the envelope. He found it in his pocket and went to the boardroom where Jack was sitting pensively looking down on the Hub. "This came for you, sir. It's from someone called Doris Carter."

Jack said nothing. He sat very still for a moment remembering a time long ago and then held out a hand. Ianto passed over the envelope and then stood uncertainly. Did Jack want him to stay or not? He watched as Jack turned the envelope over in his hands, staring at the spidery old-lady handwriting and then sniffing it. It smelled of lavender, Ianto knew that; he'd have to get his jacket cleaned to remove the lingering traces from the cloth.

"Thanks."

Ianto took this as dismissal and left the boardroom. He was at the bottom of the stairs before he remembered the rest of the message. He climbed back up and opened the boardroom door. Jack was sitting in the same position staring at the unopened envelope in his hands.

Clearing his throat loudly, Ianto said, "Umm, the woman who brought it said there wasn't much time. That Mrs Carter was dying."

"That's the only reason she'd write to me."

Again Ianto lingered but when Jack said nothing more he left. Whoever Mrs Carter was, she had upset his boss. With a shrug, Ianto put it out of his mind. The others had left for the night and this was a good moment to go and see Lisa. It was a big day tomorrow and she needed to be on her best form.

In the boardroom, Jack finally opened the envelope and extracted a single sheet of lilac paper. Written there were three short sentences. _'We parted badly but I'm dying. I want to see you one last time. Please come. Dorrie.'_ Seventeen words that spanned decades and took him back to another time. Someone had once written that the past was another country. It was true for him now. Doris, his last link to that time, was dying and after years of estrangement had reached out to him. He sat for several minutes then abruptly stood and headed down the stairs. He would go and see her, he owed her that much.

-ooOoo-

The room was lit by a single bedside lamp which threw a pool a light over the woman lying propped up in the single bed. She was old, very old, with wrinkles and liver spots where once had been clear taut skin. White hair lay on the pillow, abundant but thinned by age and showing the pink scalp beneath. Her eyes were closed and she breathed shallowly, chest rising imperceptibly under the blue bed jacket. Thin arms lay on the blanket, hands misshapen by arthritis clasped loosely across her stomach.

Jack moved closer and the smell of lavender grew stronger. No one liked flowery perfumes much these days but he remembered a time when it was all the rage, when every woman smelt of lavender or gardenia or roses. It took him back to a small house and a woman who had made a home there, bringing up two daughters through war and depression. A woman he should have helped more than he had.

"You came." The voice was surprising strong for such a frail lady.

"I promised, Dorrie." He looked down at her. Pale blue eyes, watering slightly – with age, not emotion – met his gaze unflinchingly. There had been a time when they had looked at him with unashamed love but not now.

"First one you've kept. And you needed a drink first."

He looked away, irritated. It was true. Leaving the Hub, he had prevaricated and stopped at a couple of bars, getting up the courage to come. The whisky had not affected him, alcohol never did, but she could smell it on his breath. It was so like her to remark on it. They had not seen one another for sixty eight years and she immediately started criticising him. He wanted to walk away but remorse and duty made him stay.

"What do you want?" he asked after a significant pause.

"To see you. For you to see me."

"What's there to see? You were an angry woman and now you're a crabby old lady. Expect me to feel sorry for you?"

She smiled in triumph. "No, jealous. Take a good look, take a good long look because I'm doing something you can't. I'm dying. Something you'll never do."

"I've seen plenty of people die, Doris, don't think you're anything special."

Her confident smile faltered. She had planned for this moment since that chance meeting in the London Blitz. After disappearing from her life it had been a shock to discover him dead in the bombed house and even more of a shock when he had gasped back to life. But shock had turned to anger and hatred when he had told his story. He had expected sympathy for the burden he had to bear but all she could remember was the way he had walked out of her life, abandoning her without a word. She rallied her strength.

"You've not changed. Always were a heartless bastard, Jack Harkness."

He shrugged. "Tell me something new. And if you're going to die, get on with it."

"It's my death, I'll do it when I'm ready." She closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of him. She'd known he would look the same but it was still a shock to find him just as she remembered – from way back and during the last war. His hair was still brown, his face didn't have any of the wrinkles she saw in her own mirror and he moved as easily as she remembered even though he was older than her.

Jack prowled the room until he came to a photograph in a silver frame. Black and white, it showed a woman standing outside a house with one child in her arms and another standing beside her holding onto her apron. All three looked into the camera fearlessly and the older child was grinning broadly. He picked it up and ran a finger over the image. So very long ago.

"You took that," she said.

"I know." He replaced the photograph and turned to look at her. "I do remember, Doris. I remember it all. Everything." Images from his past populated his dreams, this family among them.

"A month later you left." Her voice was hard and accusing. "We mourned you. Shed tears 'cos we thought you must be dead. Why else would you go? And all the time you were alive!"

"Do we really have to go over this again?" He stepped closer to the bed. "What's the point?"

"You destroyed our happiness! Doesn't that matter!" Despite her vehemence her voice was low enough not to be heard outside the room.

Tears flowed unchecked down her papery cheeks as she remembered the anxiety when he had not returned from work. The confused following days when they discovered he had not been to work, that he had disappeared. The fears for his safety. The shame when rumours he had been seen leaving started to circulate and the unspoken guilt that they must have driven him away. The happy home had disappeared as the consequences of his leaving were felt. Without his wage they had struggled to make ends meet, relying on handouts and what they could earn doing menial work. There was no laughter then, just grinding poverty.

"I had to go! People were already remarking that I wasn't getting older. I had no choice!"

The break had been necessary but it had been badly done. Jack acknowledged this to himself if not to Doris. With subsequent families he had been more skilled and led up to the disappearance, often faking his own death, and he had ensured money was available to help them live comfortably. But not Doris's family, his first on Earth. When he had tried to make amends some years later, he had been unable to trace them even with Torchwood's resources. In the bad years of the Depression, they had been evicted from the little house he remembered – the one in the photograph – and taken shelter where they could. A change of name on remarriage and the family was swallowed up until the chance meeting in the Blitz.

"And we didn't matter," she hissed.

"I did it for you. For all of you."

"We loved you."

The words fell into the room and hovered in the air between them. For her, it was an admission that before the anger and hate there had been something finer. For him, it was an arrow to the heart. He should have acted better than he had but he had been an angry and disappointed man at the start of the long wait for The Doctor. He was still waiting but the intervening years had taught him compassion and how to care for someone other than himself.

"I know," he said at last.

The tension in the room lessened. She wiped away her tears. The effort of confronting him had weakened her and used up strength she didn't have. Lying back on the bed, she remembered the happy times without the filter of later hurt and anger. It was surprising how clear the images of that time were. The kitchen was the heart of the house and she saw the range with the fire burning brightly, the rag rug on the floor, the antimacassar on the back of the single easy chair. Clouds of steam had filled the room on wash days replaced by fragrant aromas when food was cooking on the hob. She could remember it all so vividly. Happy times with companionship and laughter.

She chuckled softly. "Remember the chicken?" she asked.

"The headless one that ran round the kitchen? Oh yes." He smiled.

"Went out of the kitchen. Off down the passage and out of the front door it went."

"And all of us chasing after it."

"It was Sunday lunch, we couldn't let it get away."

"Old Ma Coleman got a fright when it ran past her." He was grinning now, seeing the cobbled street full of children and adults all chasing after the scrawny chicken.

"Got as far as the crossroads before it stopped. Would have got run over by the coal wagon if you hadn't got to it first."

"Chickens were hard to come by in those days. Besides, like you say, it was Sunday lunch." He met her gaze and they shared a moment of complete understanding. Those few years had been happy.

Doris felt the pressure building in her chest again. It had been coming and going all day but was stronger now. The tingling went further down her arm and she felt light-headed for a moment. She knew what it meant and was not afraid. Dying held no terrors for her, she had seen too many people go before her. Her husband, both sons and one grandchild were waiting for her on the other side and she had no regrets about leaving this life and joining them. The pain grew more intense and she gripped at the blanket but instead encountered a hand.

"Want me to call someone?" Jack asked. He held her hand in both of his, amazed at the strength of her grip.

Doris shook her head, unable to speak. Her breathing was affected now and she struggled for air. Accepting her decision, Jack perched on the bed and held her hand. It would not be long now. He would stay until she died, holding her hand if she would let him, and he would be jealous that she could experience what was denied him. But he was pleased that, if they hadn't exactly made peace, the shared memory had lessened her resentment of the old hurt he had inflicted.

Just before the end, through the pain, she made a supreme effort to speak. "Not many … old ladies die … holding their … daddy's hand."

-ooOoo-

In the early hours of the morning, Jack returned to the Hub. He was not surprised to see Ianto at the desk monitoring the Rift - the young man worked all hours – but didn't want him there now. "Go home, Ianto."

"There's nothing predicted, sir. Should be a quiet night."

"Good."

Ianto had his coat on. "See you in the morning." He left through the cog door, planning to be back at seven in time to wake Lisa. Dr Tanizaki was on his way. Tomorrow he would be here to take her from her cyber prison and make her whole once more.

When the door had closed, Jack walked slowly to the office and sat at the desk. From a greatcoat pocket, he drew out the silver-framed photograph. Doris was the elder child, six years old at the time, and Betty was holding Ethel, then two. His family, all dead now. Like so many, many others. Soon, very soon, he would be able to join them. He just had to wait a little longer until The Doctor arrived.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed that. Don't forget to let me know - Jay_


	19. Front Window

_After a long absence, I'm posting here again. Hope you enjoy this __homage to Alfred Hitchcock …_

* * *

**Front Window**

One wet Sunday afternoon, bored and alone, Toshiko had painted a dragon on the wall of the Hub. On another she had assigned different ring tones for each of her colleagues, something she thought appropriate to them all. The dragon continued to please her, looking down on them from above the high walkway. The ringtones, however, annoyed her. Or rather, one in particular which she was hearing far too often. Cursing, she answered it again.

"What?" she demanded.

The caller was taken aback by the curt greeting and spluttered. _"Uh … umm …"_

"I don't have all day, Ianto. What is it?"

"_He's back. And he's got a gun." _

"Really? Ianto, we've been over this before and you know what …"

"_He has! You have to check him out! He'll kill her, I know he will."_

Toshiko looked up when Jack strode out of the office to stand beside her. He was shrugging into his greatcoat, Webley already strapped to his waist. The ringtone had alerted him and he wanted to intercede before Toshiko said or did something she'd later regret.

"Ianto?" he asked. There was no missing the resigned tone in his voice.

She nodded, rolling her eyes at the same time. She let him take the mobile pleased to get back to the diagnostic program she was writing.

"Ianto, it's Jack. I'm on my way."

"_Thank you. It's the third floor, second from the left. She'll be home in half an hour." _

Jack ended the call and handed the mobile back to Toshiko. "What's he talking about?"

"Says the bloke has a gun." She rolled her eyes again.

"Right. Hold the fort here. The others will be back anytime."

-ooOoo-

Ianto was looking out for Jack and had the front door open as he climbed the stairs. "What are you doing here? You should go over there, Jack. He's going to kill her!"

"The accountant is going to kill his wife. And why would that be?" Jack waited for Ianto to roll away from the door before entering the flat. His toes had been squashed by the wheels too often for him to get close again. "Dinner not on the table in time? Withholding sex?" He closed the door.

"This is serious!"

"Uh-huh. Same as when the schoolgirl was taking drugs. And the mother smothering her baby. And the old man was a paedophile." He threw his greatcoat on the couch and faced Ianto, hands on the arms of the wheelchair. "I know you're bored, Ianto, but the kid was eating sherbet, the mother cuddling her baby and the man was looking after his grandkids. You have to stop imagining things."

The Welshman blustered. "All right, so I was wrong about them but this time I'm right. He's got a gun!"

"He's a World War II re-enactor. He has lots of guns. We told you that." Jack spoke slowly and carefully.

"So you're going to do nothing? Huh! Then it's on your head when he kills that woman!" Ianto wrenched the wheelchair sideways.

Jack leapt back protecting his toes and sighed as his friend, colleague and lover went to the front window and picked up the binoculars. After a moment, Jack followed and looked out at the street and in particular the block of flats opposite. Like the rest of the Torchwood team, Jack knew every one of the inhabitants of the fourteen flats. Had visited most of them and Retconned some after bursting in and accusing them of various criminal activities. His gaze settled on the lighted windows of the flat on the third floor, second from the left, home of Neil and Babs Warner.

Ianto's gaze was moving from the windows to the street. "She's here. She's going inside. Jack, please go and save her!" Ianto looked up at his boss. "Please!"

"He is not going to kill her."

"Then I'll call the police!"

Jack snatched the mobile out of Ianto's hand before he could enter the number. "No! Stop this, Ianto! Stop it right now!"

Frustrated, Ianto lashed out with his fists. He was at a disadvantage, sitting when Jack was standing, and was soon overpowered. Jack held onto the Ianto's wrists until he felt the fight go out of the Welshman. Ianto had too much time on his hands, that was what brought on this obsession with his neighbours. An obsession that had involved the whole team as they chased to answer his urgent summonses for assistance. Working one down, they couldn't afford the time. A better solution had to be found.

"She's in the flat. It's too late now." Ianto had twisted his head to look across the road. Her murder would be on his conscience, he should have tried harder to convince Jack.

The two men watched as Babs Warner entered the main living room, almost entirely visible through the large picture window. Her husband was standing to the right, by the kitchen door. He hurried over to kiss her cheek and take the carrier bags. They moved around the flat, chatting happily, unaware of the two men watching them. Finally, when it was clear murder was not likely, Jack released Ianto's hands and stepped round him to let down the blind.

"I'm sorry." Ianto slumped in the chair. He had been so sure.

"Go pack a bag. You're coming back to the Hub with me."

"I can't." He gestured to the wheelchair and his broken leg sticking out in front of him. "I'll be a nuisance, that's what you said."

"Ianto, you're more of a nuisance here. At least if you're in the Hub, we can keep you busy with the filing. But most important, it doesn't have any windows!"

"Where will I sleep? I can't get into your quarters." He liked the idea of being with Jack and the others but there were practicalities to be sorted out.

"Hotel. One with a lift and a big bed." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "'Cos we'll need a bit more room to cope with that." He pointed to the cast on Ianto's leg.

Ianto relaxed and smiled. Swinging the wheelchair round he headed for the bedroom not noticing when he ran over Jack's toes. Hopping on one foot, Jack stifled a curse and reached for his mobile. A few nights at the St David's Hotel was a small price to pay for keeping Ianto out of mischief. And they did have very big, very soft, beds. He just had to make sure the room looked out over the Bay ...


	20. Trash

_Searching for Jack, Gwen's eyes are opened …_

* * *

**Trash**

"Bloody hell, Gwen, you stink!"

"I know." My fiancé has a talent for stating the obvious. I threw my bag on the side and dropped the door keys in the dish beside it. "God, I need a drink." The white wine was in the fridge where I left it yesterday and tasted good as I glugged straight from the bottle.

"Need a bath, more like." Rhys joined me in the kitchen, wrinkling his nose at the aroma coming off me. "Where you been? Down the sewers?"

"Rubbish tip. The one out at Rumney." Another swig and I was feeling better.

"What for?"

"Retrieving something that got thrown away." I should have known better than to talk and drink at the same time. Some of the wine went down the wrong way, the rest was spat out over the counter and down my front. Rhys danced backwards with a curse as I coughed and spluttered.

"That's it. Bathroom, now!" He handed me a black sack and pointed dramatically to the door. "Put your clothes in that, all of them."

"I'm hungry." There was cold chicken in the fridge, I'd seen it.

"Later. Go!"

Rhys in this mood was not to be argued with so I meekly trudged out of the room and into the bathroom. I started the water running, glad we had an old-fashioned deep bath, and put in the posh bath oil Mam had given me for Christmas. Stripping off, I carefully avoided inspecting the various stains; I really didn't want to know what they were. Down to my bra and pants, I was disgusted to find grease stains on these too. After stuffing them into the bag and tying it shut, I slipped into the hot, sweetly-perfumed water and lay back, eyes closed.

"Here." Rhys stood over me with a plate and a glass. "That'll keep you going." He opened the window before picking up the bag, holding it at arm's-length.

"Hey, don't I get a kiss?"

"Not until you smell better, no." He left, shutting the door after him.

I sipped the wine and placed the glass on the side. The chicken and Branston sandwich was delicious, bread soft, thick and well-buttered. I demolished it in four bites and licked the plate as no one was looking. Lying back again, I sipped the wine and let my mind drift back a few hours to the Torchwood Hub …

-ooOoo-

"That's definitely the last sighting." Toshiko had the grainy, black and white CCTV image up on the screen. "He walked up The Hayes and crossed through to the Market and disappeared."

"Still no response to his phone or comms?" I asked Ianto.

"None." He shook his head, forehead creased in worry.

"We lost the signals from both eighty-three minutes ago," added Toshiko. "They don't show up anywhere."

"Turned off?" We all knew Jack liked to escape scrutiny from time to time when off about some of his more dubious business. I didn't think he would have done it now though, not when he was supposed to be finding the alien drug den.

"No. There's absolutely no trace. Like they've been destroyed."

"Or he's gone off with his Doctor again!" Owen was scathing. He'd still not forgiven Jack for deserting us for three months. Personally, I didn't have the energy. He'd gone, he'd come back. End of story.

"Unlikely. He was the one wanted to shut down this …" I checked the PDA for the alien's name, "… Pendule's operation. Tosh, is there anything, anything at all, to give us a clue where he was headed?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry."

Ianto spoke up. Quiet and efficient, he was easy to overlook. When we'd been abandoned by Jack Ianto had come into his own, helping me run Torchwood and taking on operational duties. I'd have been lost without him.

"There was an incident not far from there," he said now. "Police were called to reported shots at the end of St Mary Street where it meets up with Custom House Street. It was six minutes after the CCTV caught Jack and fifteen before the loss of phone signals."

"What did the police find?"

"Nothing." It was Toshiko this time. She'd accessed the police report and had it up on the screen. "Poked about a bit but then wrote it off as a false alarm."

Owen was peering at the screen. "Not surprised. A seventy-three-year-old is not a reliable witness. Was probably watching cowboys on the telly."

"You talk a lot of crap, Owen." I'd had enough of him. Some of Ianto and Toshiko's worry about Jack – they had brought his disappearance to the rest of us – had transferred to me and I didn't like him being out of contact. "Old people make the best witnesses. Besides, when's the last time there was a Western on TV? You're showing your age."

"Watched one the other night!" he protested.

I wasn't listening. Toshiko's monitor had beeped and she was tapping the keys furiously; she was onto something. "What is it, Tosh?"

"I'm not sure but I think … Yes!" She turned to face us. "Ran a diesian scan. Don't normally use it 'cos it takes so long. Looking for such small traces can ..."

She must have seen the look on my face. If she decided to give us a blow-by-blow account of how the bloody scan worked I would kill her. She was brilliant and we needed her but right now I needed answers more. "What!"

"There was diesian energy at that location just over an hour ago. Only one source, alien weapons."

"They don't usually sound like gunfire," said Owen.

Ianto was on his feet. "It's a lead. Let's go."

Normally I would have objected to him taking charge but on this occasion he was right. Jack had disappeared in that area while looking for aliens. Looked like he'd found them. Or they'd found him.

Owen drove, following Toshiko's directions, and soon we were standing on the pavement of one of Cardiff's main city centre arteries. There was steady flow of traffic and people, the latter headed for the clubs and pubs for a night out. Buses passed at regular intervals and a pair of dustcarts gave off a distinctive aroma as they headed for the tip. Toshiko and Ianto quartered the area with the scanners, oblivious to everything around them. Strange how they can get lost in technology like that. Owen was the same with all his medical tests. Can't see the appeal myself. Ianto called Toshiko and they walked down one of the small service alleys that ran at the back of the shops. Owen and I followed.

"What a stink!" complained Owen. He kicked a metal can which rolled noisily until it hit a wall.

I ignored him, something I find easier every day. The others had stopped by a metal-shuttered gate. Ianto crouched down, shining a torch at the ground. "What have you got?" I asked.

"Blood. A lot of blood."

Ianto looked up at me. Even in the half-light I could see the concern he was trying to hide. He worried about Jack even though he knew he couldn't die, or not for long. I was the same. There was always a doubt that this time it would be final, that Jack wouldn't give a gasp and return to us. I stepped around Ianto and saw the pool of blood. It stretched from the shuttered gate for three or four feet and went under a large metal skip.

"Is it Jack's?" I asked.

"Could run an analysis. Have to go back to the Hub," said Owen without enthusiasm. "Whoever it is, he's dead." With practiced movements he bent and took a swab of the blood.

"Gwen, can you help open this?" Toshiko was at the gate. "There are strong traces of saskonide, Pendule's drug, coming from inside."

Didn't take long to cut off the padlock and get it open revealing a large room at the back of a vacant shop. We checked the premises but the birds had flown. There was plenty of evidence of a hasty exit but they'd left behind a stash of the drug, either forgotten or too much to carry as well as other equipment. They had been in town for weeks so they wouldn't have left without a reason.

"Jack must have found them," said Owen. He had wandered in after us and was looking round. "Any sign of him?"

"Gwen!" Ianto shouted from outside.

Joining him, first thing I saw was the object he was holding up. A boot. A blood-stained boot. One of those with thick soles and good ankle support that Jack always wore. He swore by them, had given me a lecture on how good they were when I started with Torchwood. I didn't listen, of course; a woman needs heels. "Where was it?"

"Under here." Ianto pointed to a tall, round metal skip, the kind used by restaurants for waste food.

"Suppose you've looked inside."

"He's not there. It's empty."

Toshiko and Owen came out to join us. "There's no trace of him in the shop," she said.

I paced up and down attempting to recreate what had happened in this grimy alley. "Okay. Pendule and his guys are inside. Jack comes across them. They meet, talk, whatever, and Jack's shot."

"He falls down here." Owen gestured to the middle of the alley by the pool of blood. "Bleeds out. And they take off his boot?" he queried.

"Hardly," scoffed Ianto. He was peering into the skip again. "Help me move this under the light."

"Why?"

"Just do it, Owen!" I told him.

The metal wheels squealed as they pushed and pulled it twenty feet to the right under a streetlight. Pulling himself up, Ianto balanced on the rim so he could look inside. Rather him than me. The smell was strong even with the bin empty.

"Found something, Ianto?"

"There's a dark streak. I think it's blood." He reached inside and would have fallen in if Owen hadn't grabbed his legs. A moment later he jumped down to the ground and held out his hand. "It's blood."

We crowded round and Owen took another swab. Not sure why but it gave him something to do and kept him quiet. Blood on the ground. Blood in the skip. Seemed Jack had been disposed of the old-fashioned way so beloved of TV crime shows everywhere.

"The rubbish in this alley was cleared at 20.04," said Toshiko, peering at her PDA. She was ahead of us as always. "It was the second to last pick-up. He's on the way to the waste dump at Lamby Way, Rumney."

"We have to get there," said Ianto. It was a sign of his agitation that he wiped his bloody hand on his suit without wincing.

Owen agreed. "He's not wrong there. Those places chew up the rubbish, mash it into pulp."

I saw Ianto's face lose all its colour. For a moment I thought he was going to faint but he recovered quickly and started for the SUV. "Ianto, hang on. Tosh, you and Owen clear up here. Get everything back to the Hub then start tracing Pendule. We'll get Jack." I jogged after Ianto who was climbing behind the wheel.

We travelled in silence. It was a straight run east on Newport Road until we hit Pengam and negotiated a number of roundabouts to get onto Lamby Way. The place had changed since my last visit years before. A small park had been created and a number of industrial estates built. Everywhere was in darkness at this time on a winter evening except for the rubbish tip which was lit up like a Christmas tree. The Council are good at clearing business rubbish away every night - they want to keep the city centre clean and welcoming for the tourists - working late to deal with it before the domestic rubbish came in during the day. Ianto drove through the open gates and parked by a Portakabin office.

"I'll find out where the rubbish went," I told him. "Wait here."

The guy in charge was surprisingly helpful. Can't get many people asking to sift through his rubbish and the novelty appealed to him. The carts we wanted had arrived and were in the process of unloading. He got a laminated map to show me where to go then decided it would be easier to take us there himself. Walking fast, we passed various recycling points as we entered parts of the complex members of the public don't usually see. They don't miss anything. Piles of rubbish towered over us giving off the familiar noxious smells. Wisps of heat wafted round them, a natural effect according to our guide. It was a good approximation of hell and I felt sorry for the men – it was all men – who had to work here.

Finally we reached a cleared area where dustcarts were backing up and depositing their loads. The smell was even worse. Cooked and uncooked food was dumped in a concrete-sided bay some twenty feet wide and god knows how many deep. The pile inside the bay was twice my height and then some. Heat radiated out from it and I understood why none of the dustmen bothered with jackets. And this was just one of five bays, three full and two empty.

"This is where we put all the food waste," explained Dai Butters, our guide. "Composts down, see. Garden centres can't get enough."

"Is our load here?" asked Ianto. He was staring at the pile of waste without flinching. I was trying to keep my nose covered with my jacket collar but he didn't seem to care, too intent on finding Jack.

"Yeah. About half an hour ago."

"Was that the last load?" I asked. Hopes of an easy recovery were dashed immediately.

"Oh no, two more after that one."

My heart sank. We had to wade through three loads of smelly, restaurant waste – at least. Oh joy! "Keep everyone back and put any other loads somewhere else," I ordered. "We'll take it from here."

"You didn't say what you're looking for. Not dangerous, is it?"

"It's a body," said Ianto. His gaze was still fixed on the pile perhaps, like me, hoping Jack would pop up and we'd not have to touch the stuff.

Butters rounded on me. "A body! Look, we can't shut everything down while police and those CSI people search through everything. We got a job to do, a schedule to keep, and –"

"You see any police?" I shouted. "Scenes of crime? If you shut up, I'll tell you how this is going to work."

I told him and the few workers who were drawn to the argument. Took ten minutes but it was unavoidable. By the time Butters was mollified, I found Ianto had not hung about. He was knee-deep in the rubbish, pushing it aside with his bare hands. If I'd not seen it for myself I'd never have thought it possible. Ianto hated being dirty, wearing Marigolds to wash up and full protective gear when he helped on clean-up. He must care about Jack a lot. Gave me pause for thought.

"You got a plan?" I asked. I stayed at the edge of the spreading pile of rubbish. As Ianto disturbed it, it seeped down and spread over a wider area revealing a layer of grease about three inches deep at the bottom.

"Starting at the middle," he replied not stopping. "The driver said that's where they dump it."

"Right." I'd like to say I rushed to help him but I can't. I hesitated on the edge of the bay reluctant to get up close and personal with the city's detritus. Clearly I didn't care for Jack as much as Ianto.

"You want an overall?" asked Butters who had come to stand beside me. "Or a mask? Boots?"

I accepted the mask and wellie boots but didn't bother with the overall. What was the point? It wouldn't protect me completely and clothes wash or could be thrown away. Kitted out, I sent Butters back to his office. Didn't want him anywhere near when we found Jack. Turning back to the rubbish pile, I saw Ianto was further in. He was climbing on rubbish now but still sinking in to his knees. Show off, I thought, and started in after him.

"Gwen! Here!"

Ianto was kneeling in the rubbish, throwing it aside recklessly. A cabbage leaf and rotten tomato hit me but by then I didn't care. Scrabbling over the greasy, slimy pile I made my way to Ianto's side. He was scooping out a hole about three feet down. As fast as he worked, however, more rubbish slid down to fill the gap.

"Take it easy," I said. "Go a bit slower then it'll stay clear."

I didn't think he'd heard me but he did slow down a bit. Only a couple of feet away now, I peered into the hole and saw what had excited him. A boot. The mate to the one we'd found in the alley but this was attached to a foot. Working together, we got the rubbish away until we could get a grip on the leg and then pulled. It was difficult as everything was greasy, including the leg, but gradually both legs were uncovered. Pulling was easier now as we could use Jack's belt as a handhold. His upper body came out of the heap with a squelching, sucking sound and so suddenly I had to take a couple of steps backwards to maintain my balance. I did not want to go down in this lot!

Jack was lying on his front and Ianto, who had better balance than me, knelt in the muck and turned him over. "Shit!" It was clear why Jack was still dead. A barbed projectile was stuck in his chest like an oversized arrowhead. There wasn't a shaft. Either it had never had one or it had broken off.

"Can you get it out? Shall I call Owen?" I asked. I was kneeling as well, concern for Jack overcoming my distaste for our surroundings. With that thing in his heart, Jack would have revived only to die again. Must have been painful and I was not going to let it go on longer than it need.

Ianto grabbed the projectile, which stuck out a foot or so, and tugged. He was gentle at first then gave it all he had. It moved from side to side but stayed firmly embedded. Pausing to catch his breath, Ianto stood up. Placing his foot on Jack's chest for leverage, he pulled with all his might. I grabbed his hands and pulled too. Our combined efforts were useless. Breathing heavily, we paused to consider.

"I'll get Owen. He can cut it out," I said.

"No. It'll take too long." He was taking Jack's greatcoat off, putting it to one side.

"We have no choice!"

"There is. Brace me."

"What?"

"Stand up, feet either side of his head. Now, Gwen!"

Ianto rarely issued orders but I obeyed anyway; he had a plan and I didn't. He put his hands on my shoulders and then put the heel of his right shoe on the projectile. And pushed. It was horrible to watch the alien thing thrust into Jack's chest still further but I had an inkling what Ianto was attempting. I'd seen it at the movies. When the projectile had gone in as far it could, we bent and turned Jack over. The thing was sticking out of his back now, three vicious barbs that had been embedded in his flesh. Carefully – it could be poisoned – we eased it out. Ianto was about to throw it away when I grabbed it. This was alien and shouldn't be left lying around.

"I'll stay with him. You get the SUV."

Once Ianto started giving orders there was no stopping him. He sat in the rubbish, cradled Jack in his arms and didn't give me another thought. Wrapping the projectile in the greatcoat, I slid down the heap of rubbish onto firm ground. Butters and some of his crew were watching and ambled over to meet me.

"Find it?" asked Butters.

"Yeah. Stay away!" I called to a couple of men who were starting for the rubbish bay. "All of you, come with me."

It was the only way I could think of to give Ianto and Jack a bit of privacy. Plus I didn't have enough Retcon to dose them all. Shepherding them along, we walked back to the Portakabin where I made a fuss of taking their names and addresses. Even this tiny sign of officialdom put them off getting more involved. In the SUV I called Owen. He griped about having to take a taxi when carrying alien drugs but confirmed he and Toshiko were back in the Hub. Both were pleased we'd found Jack. Back at the rubbish heap, I stopped the SUV and got out. Ianto was in the same position but Jack was sitting up. He was pale and drawn after his protracted deaths but alive. The smile he sent in my direction was a pale imitation of his usual toothy grin.

"You get in the back with Jack," I told Ianto when they joined me. "I'll drive."

"Thanks, Gwen." Jack laid a hand on my shoulder and climbed aboard. His shirt was a bloody mess at the front and the rest of him was covered with grease and bits of food. A huge hole marred the back of his shirt but there was no blood. He'd been dead when we'd had to mutilate him further.

Driving through the streets of Cardiff, I glanced in the rearview mirror. They were sitting side by side, Jack's head on Ianto's shoulder, holding hands. Jack's eyes were closed but Ianto was staring dreamily into the distance, his lips curled in a smile. I felt like a voyeur and hastily concentrated on the road ahead. No matter what had happened in the past – Cyber girlfriends and unexplained absences – these two men had made a connection. They cared for one another.

-ooOoo-

The bathwater had grown cold when I returned to the here and now. Shampooing my hair, I finished washing and got out. The filthy water gurgled down the plughole as I dried off. Hair swathed in a towel and wearing Rhys's bathrobe, I went to join him.

"I'm frying some potatoes to go with the chicken," he said. "That do you?"

"Sounds great." A glass of wine stood on the side and I drank long and deep.

"I'm washing what I can. The jeans will have to go to the dry cleaners though what they'll make of them Lord only knows."

Only now did I notice the washing machine was on. Rhys is a good man, he looks after me so well. Sitting on the stool, I watched him fiddle with the frying pan, slice the chicken and get out the pickles.

I wondered what Jack and Ianto were doing. We'd left them in the Hub heading to the showers to clean up. Before tonight I'd have worried about Ianto not getting off home like the rest of us but not now. He was where he wanted to be, with Jack. And Jack wanted him there for more than just sex; they relied on one another emotionally too. There had been a time I'd thought it might be me to forge the bond with Jack and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tiny bit disappointed that Ianto had got there instead. But I had Rhys. If Jack, the immortal man, had found a momentary companionship with Ianto, damaged by Canary Wharf, I was happy for both of them.

"Supper's ready."

* * *

_Let me know what you think, I love feedback :-)_


	21. Two Wheels

_Inspired by the Tour de France 2012. Team Torchwood get on their bikes …_

* * *

**Two Wheels **

"This is ridiculous!" shouted Ianto.

"It's wonderful!" replied Jack with a beaming smile. "Race you!"

In moments Jack was pulling ahead. Pedalling hard, Ianto tried to keep up but his calf and thigh muscles couldn't cope with the unaccustomed demands. His arse was painful too; why did saddles have to be so narrow? Bowing to the inevitable, Ianto slowed his pace and watched Jack getting further away. Ten minutes later he drew up alongside his boss.

"What happened to you?" asked Jack He was stationary, still on the bike but leaning against some railings.

"I told you. Haven't been on a bike for years."

"You're the one who wanted to ride."

"That was then." Ianto stood and rubbed his aching behind.

"Hey, that's my job!" protested Jack with a familiar grin.

Ianto did not bother to reply, too relieved to be out of the saddle. It had been his idea to take this ride. Finding the bikes in what Jack called 'the stables' of the Hub had inspired him. There were all manner of machine: penny-farthing, velocipede, 'sit-up-and-beg', tandem, road racers of every era, mountain bikes and one Chopper. Jack had been excited about the find, relating all manner of tales about how each machine had been bought and used by Torchwood in the past. In no time they had picked out a couple, cleaned them off and pumped up the tyres. Jack had found a route on the Internet - the Castle Route – that went around the city centre and out to Penarth before returning to the city centre via Cardiff Bay. They had started halfway round and cycled to Penarth and back over the Barrage. They were now by the Norwegian Church looking across the Bay.

"How come you're so good at this?" asked Ianto. He'd feel better if Jack looked just a bit sore or out of breath. Damn his immortal body!

"Never forget how to ride a bike. Come on, get on. We've got to get up to the Castle yet."

"No. That's it for me. I'm walking back."

"You big wuss!"

"Sticks and stones, Jack. Sticks and stones." Moving before his muscles seized up for good, Ianto began pushing the mountain bike. He could see the water tower and the Tourist Office and couldn't wait to get inside and sit … no, lie down.

"You really walking?" called Jack. He hadn't moved. The unscheduled ride had been an unexpected pleasure. He had forgotten how good it felt to speed along using muscle power alone with the wind in his face. Years of sitting in cars had spoiled him. When Ianto kept on walking, Jack pedalled very slowly, jiggling the front wheel to keep alongside. "We should use bikes on Weevil hunts."

Ianto gave him a long-suffering look and trudged on. "How you going to carry the equipment? Or the Weevil?"

"Could get a trailer. You can ride in the trailer too, seeing as you can't keep up!" He beamed. "Save your pretty legs."

"It's not my legs that are the problem!" muttered Ianto.

Jack's enthusiasm was fired up and he carried on, "Gwen and Tosh can use the tandem. That'd be cool." He imagined their pert arses on show and grinned.

Despite himself, Ianto smiled at the absurdity of team Torchwood cycling everywhere. His picture of Gwen and Toshiko had them dressed in long skirts and hats riding the tandem like women in the old photographs Jack had shown him earlier. He was about to say so when he saw Jack's lascivious grin – clearly he was thinking of something else. It didn't take a moment to realise what. Ianto scowled.

"Stop it!"

"What?" Jack looked down and around; he wasn't doing anything he shouldn't. "What are you talking about?"

"Your one-track mind." He walked a little faster past the National Assembly Office.

"Oh that." Jack pedalled off in a big loop up to the steps and back. It was dusk on a weekday evening with not many people about leaving him plenty of room. He returned to Ianto's side. "Suppose it'd be too slow if we put Owen on the penny-farthing."

"Chopper, that'd do for him." That appealed to Ianto. Having the sarcastic doctor on the large-handled, small-wheeled Chopper beloved of children in the 1970s would be fitting payback for his continual carping.

"You're a cruel man, Ianto Jones, a cruel man." They continued in silence for a minute or two, down the slope to Roald Dahl Plass, then Jack said, "How about we have a ride? Just for pleasure. All of us. Tomorrow. There are enough racers and mountain bikes." He wanted everyone to share his enjoyment.

"Not sure how much pleasure there'd be. Sounds more a team-building exercise than pleasure."

"You're a genius!" Jack clapped him on the shoulder and pedalled off up the Plass; the huge open space of Mermaid Quay too tempting to pass up.

Ianto watched him go with a sinking heart. He should have kept his mouth shut. Oh well, maybe Toshiko could give the Rift a poke and there wouldn't be time tomorrow. With Jack's normal attention span, he'd have forgotten the idea after that.

-ooOoo-

A week later Ianto was astride a bike again. Contrary to his predictions, Jack had not only remembered his idea, he had made all the arrangements himself. He'd overhauled the bikes, researched a route and worked on the rest of the team until they'd had no excuses left. So here they were. A sunny and – unfortunately – quiet morning spent cycling the Rhymney Trail.

"All ready? Off we go then," said Jack.

He took the lead with Gwen alongside him. They looked very professional. Jack had bought the proper gear for them all including helmets but only he and Gwen had chosen to ditch their tracksuits and show the skin-tight Lycra shorts and shirt that left nothing - absolutely nothing! - to the imagination. Jack's was a bright gold – the same as worn by the leader of the famous _Tour de France_ – and Gwen's green and white. The others had reluctantly donned their equally tight and garish gear but kept the track suits on over the top. They exchanged long-suffering looks and set off after their two colleagues.

The Trail was mainly off-road and level, a good choice for unpractised riders like them. It meandered through a newish park alongside the River Rhymney with lots of trees, birds and other wildlife to admire. The Torchwood colleagues were soon strung out. Gwen set a good pace which Jack matched with ease. Ianto and Toshiko pedalled steadily some yards back. Owen, who thought the idea a complete waste of time, brought up the rear. His curses floated up to the others in a constant flow.

Jack left Gwen and circled back like a mother-hen come to ensure all his 'chicks' were safe. "How's the pelaton doing?"

"The what?" asked Toshiko. She was pink with the exercise and had unzipped her tracksuit top showing the light blue cycling gear beneath.

"Pelaton. The big bunch of riders who stick together for mutual support."

"It's French," protested Ianto. "Means little ball."

"That too. You all right, Owen?" called Jack. The doctor was adrift by ten yards or so and clearly not enjoying himself.

"No I'm bleeding not! How the hell did I let you talk me into this?"

Jack laughed but chose not to reply. He was in his element and not about to get into another argument with Owen. He glanced at Ianto and frowned. "Aren't you hot?"

"No." Ianto felt a drop of perspiration roll down the side of his face and guessed he was red in the face but he was not going to remove his tracksuit, not yet anyway. The Lycra clung to his body in embarrassing ways. A sideways glance gave him a good view of how Jack's outfit accentuated his figure, including the bulging crotch. More heat rose into Ianto's face and he looked away quickly.

"Up to you, I suppose." Jack shrugged and crossed behind the two riders coming up alongside Toshiko. "Feel like stretching your legs, Tosh?"

"All right." She changed gear and pedalled faster.

Toshiko and Jack moved up to join Gwen and the three of them rode abreast, chatting about how this part of Cardiff had changed in recent years. Behind them, Ianto slowed sufficiently for Owen to catch him up.

"Bloody mad, that's what they are," said Owen.

"Oh, it's not so bad. You still on for later?"

"Oh yeah." Owen's malicious grin spoke of devilment to come.

For twenty minutes, the Torchwood team continued along the track. They stopped at a viewing area to drink from the fancy water bottles strapped to the bikes. Toshiko had removed her tracksuit bottoms by now, into the swing of the ride and no longer concerned about how she looked. Ianto deigned to unzip his top but Owen remained completely swaddled in his tracksuit, slumped on a bench grumpily looking out over the river.

Gwen stood looking at a map of the Trail on a large information board. "If we keep going we'll join the road in a bit. You want to do that?" She looked at Jack.

He came across to join her. "Sure. There's a pub right … here." He put his finger on the map. "Should be in time for lunch."

"Someone mention a pub?" asked Owen, looking round.

"Trust you!" Gwen rolled her eyes and took a long drink from her water bottle.

"Maybe we ought to … I don't know, have an incentive?" suggested Ianto.

Jack grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "Everyone who makes it gets a snog from me!" he said gleefully. Gwen laughed, rather liking the idea, and even Toshiko tittered.

"I'm for staying here then," said Owen with a grimace.

"I was thinking," said Ianto as if he had not been interrupted, "of last one to arrive buys the drinks."

"Don't you want a snog from me, Ianto?" Jack moved closer, admiring the Welshman. Ianto looked sleek in the red and black outfit but he'd look even better if he removed the tracksuit bottoms.

"Prefer a long, cool lager."

Owen stood up. "Me too. But let's make it more interesting. Last one buys the drinks but first one gets the weekend off." He looked at Jack. "What'd 'a say, Jack?"

The Torchwood leader Jack looked at his team. They were all challenging him to agree and he had sold this as a team building exercise … He didn't have a choice. "All right. Providing there's not a major incident."

"I could do with a weekend," said Gwen moving to her bike. "Could have a lie-in for a change."

"I could go and see my family in London," said Toshiko with a smile for Ianto.

After confirming the route they agreed to cycle to the next junction before beginning the race. Toshiko urged them not to take chances on public roads but her pleas fell mainly on deaf ears. The roads they were going on were minor routes and were quiet in the middle of the day. Jack stood back and watched admiringly as Ianto finally revealed his shorts and folded the tracksuit bottoms in the saddlebag. Owen stuffed his tracksuit into his saddlebag anyhow showing off an unexpectedly muscular torso and thighs clad in navy blue and white. Back on the bikes, they proceeded in a group each eyeing the other as the junction neared.

Then they were off.

Gwen took off early with Toshiko on her wheel, both deciding that they stood less chance against the men and needed a decent advantage. They held the lead as they emerged onto Rumney Hill and had to work hard to get up the incline. Behind them, Jack, Ianto and Owen jockeyed for position. All of them were confident of overtaking the girls but none of them was willing to let the others get an advantage. Jack was particularly confident having seen the other mens' efforts so far that morning. He planned to stay back and make a late run. As they neared the crest of the hill, Toshiko was a yard ahead of Gwen with Ianto, Owen and Jack in that order. Coasting down the hill, Gwen moved up beside Toshiko and stayed there. The men followed in single file. They were all in the same positions as they entered Rumney heading for the Cross Inn on Newport Road. Two hundred yards away, Owen put on a sudden spurt and he and Ianto got away from Jack, riding on the wheels of Toshiko and Gwen. The four of them swung into the pub car park together and rode abreast to the main door, kicking up gravel as they came to a dramatic halt. With matching grins, they turned to watch Jack ride in behind them.

Jack realised what they'd done, of course. It had all been planned. They had tied so they all expected to have the weekend off. And he had come in last so had to buy the drinks. They would probably make him pay for lunch too. He halted facing them and sighed. "You can't all be off together," he said.

"Owen and me this weekend, Tosh and Ianto next," said Gwen. "Right?"

"All right."

"Now that's sorted, better get the drinks in, Jack," said Owen. "I'm feeling really thirsty after that."

"Me too," added Toshiko with a giggle.

She and Owen got off their bikes and pushed them into the pub garden. It was a beautiful day for sitting outside. Gwen gave Jack a sympathetic pat on the arm before following them. Ianto paused, looking in the saddlebag for the tracksuit bottoms.

"Don't," said Jack. "Please?"

Looking up, Ianto recognised the simple smile that Jack reserved for their private moments. Their boss had been manoeuvred into losing the bet and was taking it well, perhaps he deserved a reward. "All right. But only because I'm hot."

"Don't need to tell me that!" Jack put and arm round the Welshman's shoulders and grinned. "Let's go get those drinks."

* * *

_Congratulations to Bradley Wiggins on winning the Tour de France today. Fantastic effort by the whole of Team Sky._


	22. Shot

_After a long hiatus without inspiration or time, I have a new story for you. Just a short one but I hope it will be the first of many. Ianto is shot ..._

* * *

**Shot**

Nothing had prepared him for this.

The pain came thirty seconds after the bullets entered his shoulder. It was so sudden and so overwhelming that he staggered and was momentarily unable to breath. The weakness came next. His legs turned to water and his knees gave way. He fell as if he had been poleaxed. Gasping in much-needed air he lay on the pavement. His whole being was centred on the injured shoulder. He couldn't think of anything else. Blood oozed from the wounds and soaked into his suit jacket unheeded. A wave of icy coldness swept through him. He shivered violently.

"Here."

Warmth surrounded him and came with a very familiar smell. Jack. Forcing open his eyes, Ianto recognised the greatcoat swathed over his lower body and legs.

"Gotta get this out of the way. It'll hurt." Jack used a penknife to slice through the jacket and shirt and pulled the fabric away from the shoulder. He worked fast and was not gentle. It was imperative to stop the bleeding and keep the area as clean as possible. Infection was the real killer with gunshots.

Ianto hadn't thought he could feel any more pain. He was wrong. He bit his lip until it bled then gave up and yelled. The pain did not go away but vocalising it helped. For a second or two. He yelled again.

"Want the morphine?" Gwen had the med kit open.

"Fuss he's making? Sure."

Ianto heard the amused undercurrent in Jack's voice. He stopped yelling and would have tried a wry quip but his teeth were chattering too hard. Ice flowed through his veins despite the greatcoat. He didn't feel the prick of the hypodermic needle. His vision blurred and narrowed as blackness took over.

"Oh no you don't. Stay awake." Jack slapped Ianto's face. Not hard, but sufficient to keep him conscious.

"Leave me alone." Ianto got it out somehow. His voice sounded far away.

"Don't be daft, sweetheart. You've done this for us often enough." Gwen softened her words by stroking Ianto's hair back from his clammy forehead. She watched as Jack applied the pressure bandage. "I'll get the SUV."

Ianto felt her depart. He was sorry. She had been kind at least. Not like Jack who was pressing down on the shoulder and wrapping it in bandages. The worst of the pain had receded with the administration of the drug but he still hurt. Finally Jack was done and Ianto relaxed, expecting to be left alone. No such luck. Jack was undoing Ianto's shirt buttons.

"Really, Jack? Now?" The words were slurred but clear.

With a chuckle, Jack gently placed Ianto's injured arm in the gap Napoleon-style and buttoned the shirt around it. "Nothing to use for a sling," he explained. "Although we could …" He bent and brushed Ianto's lips with his own.

"Nah."

"You're probably right. Come on."

Ready to float off into drug-induced fog, Ianto was shocked when Jack pulled his arm, the good one, and made him sit up. The movement jarred the injured shoulder and a spasm of pain ran up and down his spine. "Bastard."

"That's right, abuse the one who's helping you." With another heave, Jack got the injured Welshman to his feet. He wrapped the greatcoat around Ianto who stood on unsteady legs shivering. Slipping his arms under Ianto's back and knees, Jack carried him across the grass verge. "Hub and me or hospital and a doctor?"

"Hospital." Ianto was floating again. He felt far away from the cares of his body but still opted for the safety of medical professionals.

"Aw! Was looking forward to playing doctors."

From his unusual position being carried by Jack, Ianto saw the trademark grin at close quarters. At least someone was enjoying himself.

"I'll dig out the nurse's uniform instead. For later," went on Jack, still grinning. He could afford to be jovial; the bullets had gone straight through and the wounds – remarkably close together - were now clean. Ianto hadn't lost much blood either. The injury wasn't serious and he would be fine in a few days.

"Huh."

"In here." Gwen held the front passenger door open. "You can keep an eye on him better here than in back." She stood aside as Jack eased Ianto into the seat and fastened the seat belt, avoiding the injured shoulder.

"You be able to manage?" Jack closed the door. Reggie Porter lay sprawled on the pavement in a pool of blood from multiple bullet wounds. Both Jack and Gwen had shot him but not before he had got Ianto.

"Already called Andy. We'll sort out a story. Where will you be?"

"St Helen's." Jack indicated the SUV with an upraised thumb. "His choice."

"And a good one. Go on, get him looked after."

For Ianto, the next few hours remained disjointed and fragmentary snatches of memory. He could put them in order but never found the missing pieces. First there was the SUV and Jack making him sing along to the radio. To keep him conscious, Ianto realised later, but at the time it seemed weird. Next was the white-walled cubicle in St Helen's A&E department and men and women in blue scrubs. This image was accompanied by acute pain. A bed in the noisy recovery ward followed, with someone holding his hand while also chatting-up the nurses. Even half-conscious Ianto recognised Jack. Finally another bed in a quieter ward. Jack was there again but this time he was silent, sitting staring off into space.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself. They've sorted you out and you're going to be fine." Jack smiled and took the hand that lay conveniently close. He stroked the back with a thumb, taking care not to dislodge the drip.

"Umm." Ianto recognised the floaty feeling. His shoulder felt tight and larger than normal but the drugs were keeping all pain at bay. "You owe me."

"I told you to stay back. Not my fault you never listen."

"Not for that." Ianto fought to keep his eyes open. "For the suit."

"Ah." Jack leant closer. "I'll buy a new one soon as you're out of here. If," he paused provocatively, "you let me measure you for it." He waggled his eyebrows.

Unable to stay awake any longer, Ianto murmured, "Deal," and closed his eyes. A satisfied smile lingered on his lips. He could never be sure, but he thought he felt Jack's kiss.

Ianto was back at work three days later. His arm was in a sling, he took painkillers regularly and rested a lot but that was better than staying home being idle. He pottered round the Hub doing what he could and supervised Jack and Gwen when they took up the slack. Luckily the aliens stayed away – mostly – leaving the three Torchwood operatives time for routine tasks. Returning from a frustrating trip to the archives – the papers were mounting up and he couldn't file them with only one hand - Ianto found Gwen at her desk - alone.

"Jack?" He sank onto the couch.

"Out getting a snack. Probably doughnuts again." Gwen swung round to face her colleague. "Tired?"

"No. No more than usual anyway." He smiled and was pleased to see her anxious frown fade. "Never thought it would be like this. Being shot."

"Bit of a shock, isn't it? Amazed me too." She shivered, remembering the shotgun blast in Brynblaidd. "Not like on the telly."

"No." He was silent, lost in his thoughts.

"Penny for them," she said after the silence had grown.

"Umm? Sorry?" He shifted his gaze back to her.

"You were having deep and interesting thoughts," she said in a vaguely 'mystical' tone. "Want to share?"

He hesitated for only a moment; she was the only one who would understand. "I hadn't realised what it was like. For him. Every time he goes through that pain, the shock. And not just bullets. Remember after those Sleeper agents?"

Gwen nodded slowly, recalling the nightmarish drive back to the Hub with Jack bleeding to death in the back seat. It was easy to forget the pain he experienced when, within minutes or hours, he was back on his feet none the worse for wear. "Hard to appreciate," she said finally.

"Yeah. Must be hell."

They sat in silence considering the unnatural state of their immortal boss until the door alarms sounded and the man himself came bounding up the steps, greatcoat tails billowing out behind him.

"Look what I've got!" Jack flourished the box he was carrying before them. Emblazoned across it was the name of one of Cardiff's finest patisseries. "Cream horns. Haven't seen them in years."

Gwen looked at Ianto who met her gaze. They smiled at the same time, thinking the same thoughts. No matter what he went through Jack never let it get him down. He enjoyed his life and didn't lingered over the painful or unpleasant. And nor should they. Gwen sniggered then laughed aloud. Ianto joined in, wincing when he jarred his injured arm.

"What?" Jack looked from one to the other, confused. Then he looked down at himself. Flies were done up and he couldn't see anything else to make them laugh. "What's the joke?" he demanded.

"Nothing." Gwen recovered first. She stood and took the box from his hands, placing it on the table. "I'll get some plates. Want a coffee?"

"Please," said Ianto. She had proved an adept pupil and now made acceptable coffee.

Jack watched her go. He frowned, not liking being out of the loop. Much as he wanted his colleagues to get on together, he did not want to be excluded especially from the jokes.

"Knife." Ianto held out a hand like a surgeon.

Reminded of his role as nurse, Jack grinned and put his penknife in the outstretched palm. He had to find that old uniform and get Ianto to play for real. Maybe later, when Gwen had gone home. Back in a good mood, he flung the greatcoat on the couch before following it.

Ianto cut the thin ribbon securing the box and opened it. Inside nestled four beautiful pastries oozing with cream and bright red jam. He looked at Jack, his expression one of complete innocence. "That's kind of you, Jack. Getting an extra one for me. I need to build up my strength again."

Jack's grin faded. That hadn't been the idea at all. He was too busy feeling hard done by to notice Ianto's satisfied smirk.

* * *

_Hope you liked it. Don't forget to let me know!_


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